The Prince (old)
by oca2073
Summary: The journey of Steffon Baratheon as he attempts to balance and defuse tensions between various factions, protect his family and ultimately remake the Seven Kingdoms into a better place. ABANDONED.
1. Chapter 1

(On top a green hill overlooking plains the view stretches many miles to the distant hazy background in the North, marking the edge of the Wolfswood. The castle of Winterfell looms below, a mighty, cluttered fortress resting on a hill with a dozen or so towers clumped around its centre, there is a mud trodden path that leads right to its main gate. To the east is the small village of Wintertown and some tilled fields where several hundred of the smallfolk can be seen hard at work. Sheep are wandering in amongst the other hills. The King's party to their rear of about three hundred strong carrying the banners of Gold Lions and Black Stags are moving at a sedate pace. 2nd son Prince Steffon Baratheon and his father King Robert Baratheon are at the head of the party on their horses a while ahead of the others. Robert is a gruff man grown enormously fat over the long years and his face is starting to droop from excess drinking, his eyes are sunken and he speaks with a gruff and boisterous tone. Steffon is more measured, near the appearance and strong build of his father in his youth, but without the fire. His eyes however are noticeably blue/green but his hair like his father's is deep black and he always appears solemn and deep in thought.)

Robert: Well, is the Northern climate to your liking then? I remember I once visited up here many years ago travelling on this same road on a trip with Ned. Gods must have been nearly twenty five years ago when we were visiting his home together. My first time up in the North. Only then things weren't so bloody complicated.

Steffon: And now you plan on bringing him south to King's Landing. I'm guessing he has few good memories of the place where his father and brother were murdered.

Robert: (Looks at Steffon sternly) What are you trying to say boy?

Steffon: Hear me out. I know you haven't seen him for years and he's the only one to be trusted. But he has no history in politics, or understanding of the court. He's a newcomer and his position will be a precarious one if he does not learn and adapt quickly. And the Starks and Lannisters already have a mutual disdain for one another so it will be a challenge to prevent their rivalry from spilling over.

Robert: (heatedly) So what do you suggest? Does it look as if I have any choice? What would have me do? Concede all power to those Lannisters?!

Steffon: (after a slight pause) I think I'm ready to enter politics father. I've passed my fifteenth nameday. Appoint me to the Small Council and I can help Lord Stark navigate his way in King's Landing. I can also try to smooth out tensions between the two parties and I'll report directly to you if there's any trouble. It's high time I found something active to do in court anyways.

Robert: You've got some strange blood in you boy wanting to go into politics. (He takes a gulp from his wine flagon and snorts. His face reddens) I will appoint you to the Small Council to help Ned. God knows he'll probably need it now that I think about it. (He slaps Steffon on the back and chuckles). But you've some nerve just coming up to me like this. And you'll be able to tell me how he's doing and what the rest of the stink are up to. Give 'em hell for me, eh? (He canters off ahead quickly while Steffon falls back with the rest of the party and a member of the Kingsguard overtakes him to catch up with the King. He eventually turns his horse around and makes his way to near the back of the procession where a large resplendent carriage decked with rubies and fine silken sheets and lace is being pulled by a team of matching stallions. Tommen and Myrcella, his siblings aged twelve and eight are riding together next to it on two noticeably smaller ponies that look weary from the long journey.)

Steffon: (manoeuvring his horse to ride alongside them and slowing to a canter)

Myrcella: (not noticing his approach until the last moment) Steffon! Where have you been all day? We've been looking for you and mother says you shouldn't stray too far off the Kingsroad like that.

Steffon: I was having a word with father about our arrival. We're only an hour's ride from Winterfell, you know. If you follow me, I know a good place where you can see all of it and get a good picture of the surroundings. I know you and Tommen are only allowed out of the carriage for a couple hours per day. (Smiles benignly at Tommen)

Tommen: I want to go. It won't take too long to get mother angry right?

Myrcella: (looks guiltily back at the carriage and follows her brothers as Tommen struggles to keep pace.

(They gallop at a gentle speed around the nearest hill back to where Steffon had earlier ridden with the King)

Myrcella: So that's it then. (Surveying the vast expanse of hilly plain before her) It's vast and somewhat majestic, but a bit rough and plain don't you think?

Steffon: Northerners have never been known to value ostentation of any kind. I even admire them for that. There's not much room to think about anything here except utility and survival and that is reflected in their customs, their architecture, their manner of speech.

Myrcella: Tommen no come back here! (She rides after her brother who has begun a gallop excitedly in the direction of Winterfell. Steffon chuckles slightly before turning away from them to ride back towards the procession)

(The party are passing through a set of double wooden gates already thrown open in welcome. On the other side they emerge in the main courtyard where all the inhabitants, soldiers of the castle are standing to receive their King. In unison they all fall upon their knees as Robert Baratheon rides forth at the head of the procession, flanked by two Kingsguard. Immediately behind rides Joffrey, his firstborn son dressed in rich finery with long flowing blonde hair next to his sworn shield Sandor Clegane his scarred face concealed under his dog helm. Two dozen more Lannister and Baratheon knights follow immediately afterwards carrying the banners before Steffon, Myrcella, and Tommen emerge, followed not long afterwards by the carriage, and bringing up the rear the rest of the guardsman)

Steffon: (Dismounting before helping his siblings do the same. The three walk somewhat shakily due to long hours of riding. Steffon watches his father warily as he introduces himself to the Starks who respond with good initial courtesy. Behind, the carriage has stopped and Cersei, Robert's Queen and Steffon's mother descends from the steps wearing furs and a long-sleeved auburn gown, her hair windswept from travelling. She walks immediately towards her children)

Myrcella: Mother I did try to stop them from riding out too far but Tommen was really excited to see the castle.

Tommen: (smiles widely pointing at Steffon) He showed us the hill where we could see everything down below and there was mist and ramparts and battlements.

Cersei: (cooly surveying Steffon) You should know better than to lead your younger siblings into potential danger. Out here anyone could be lurking, tailing us, looking for ransoms. Next time you wish to wander off, be sure to bring a guard.

Steffon: You forget mother that I am more than capable of protecting myself, Tommen, Myrcella from the common brigand. (Fingers the hilt of his longsword) And from the hill we could easily see for miles and rest assured there was no one nearby.

Cersei: (with a somewhat resigned expression) Well, now I have to go and greet the Starks. We'll talk later my loves when we're settled into our quarters. Steffon, make sure that you learn to find your way so your siblings won't get lost in this infernal maze. (Steffon nods and Cersei takes her leave of them towards the party of Starks who have just finished greeting the King. Robert is striding alone with Ned Stark with his Kingsguard following discretely fifty paces behind)

(A servant approaches the royal siblings and bids them to follow. After retrieving and carrying his own bags, Steffon follows with his siblings behind with a pair of guardsman following. They enter into a long gallery hallway with sunlight seeping through the panes)

Servant: (bowing) My princes, princess, this tower has been prepared for the Royal Family's visit and will be your lodgings. The King has his own tower which is a five minute walk away from this one.

(Steffon thanks him and after having mounted the staircase and found spacious rooms at the top, deposited their luggage and the siblings return to the courtyard. The atmosphere is still festive with a decent amount of chatter ongoing.

Myrcella: (excitedly) Come on, let's go and meet the Starks. (She eyes Steffon's longsword disapprovingly) Did you have to bring that thing along? We're not at war you know.

Steffon: But I already left my shield and bow at home. And a man should always carry his sword by his side always. And don't you have your dagger with you? Above your left knee?

Myrcella: (grins) At least mine is not noticeable. Yours sticks out horribly.

Steffon: (teasingly) Fair point my lady. (Ushering Tommen and Myrcella forwards towards the Stark party) Hello, you must be Robb Stark. (Proffers a handshake which is received) Steffon Baratheon, these are my siblings Myrcella and Tommen Baratheon.

Robb: (Bowing slightly) Pleased to meet you my prince. May I present my brothers Bran and Rickon (stepping forward) and my sisters Sansa and Arya. (Sansa curtseys)

Myrcella: Pleased to meet you all. This is such a fascinating place isn't it? I'm afraid we've never visited too many places in the Seven Kingdoms and Winterfell is so far away from King's Landing.

Robb: You are right at that my lady (Myrcella blushes). Why don't we give you all a tour of the castle and the grounds. There are many places that you might miss otherwise.

Steffon: I'd like that. (The group begins to walk away from the large party. Tommen begins talking with Bran. Sansa with Myrcella.) I've never seen a castle with such varied architecture, not at all uniform. Winterfell must have been built over many generations, am I right? I see some stone ruins, uneven structures, haphazardly dispersed…

Robb: Well you're probably correct about that. It's common knowledge that Bran the Builder built Winterfell but Maester Luwin says it's more likely that he simply began its construction, and the layout evolved over many years.

Arya: (chipping in blithely) And Winterfell is built on hot springs and has the coolest crypts that you have to see.

Steffon: All in good time I'm sure (smiling at Arya) But my father is probably still down there and I do not wish to disturb him at the moment. (to Robb) Don't you sometimes wonder about history and how any of these vast structures were constructed, far beyond the means of our current builders. What caused such knowledge to be lost? The last great fortress constructed was the Red Keep and even that was dwarfed by Moat Cailin when it was still intact. It does sometimes feel as if we're living in the Dark Ages.

Robb: Moat Cailin probably fell into disuse after Aegon's conquest and perhaps magic still existed in those days that allowed such feats to be possible.

Steffon: (pausing, more to himself) Then I wonder what it was that caused magic to disappear from this world?

(The group have rounded out of the central part of the castle with Robb pointing out things of interest every once in a while. Silence has fallen in the group. They are wandering about side alleys, low walls and ramparts casting deep shadows across their footsteps. After passing through a small arch the group enters the Weirwood grove, the nearby pond is limpid and its waters are still)

Steffon: Ah Winterfell's weirwood. I've read about this. It's supposed to be the largest in the North.

Myrcella: It's beautiful. (Draws closer to the trunk examining its carvings)

Tommen: What's a weirwood?

Robb: (looks somewhat embarrassed)

Tommen: Is it just a tree? How can a tree be a god?

Steffon: Think of the Old Gods as spirits who use trees to communicate with followers and make themselves known to them.

Robb: (curtly) It's only a small part that you've seen so far but it's getting late and we must go and prepare for the feast.

Steffon: You've been a good and knowledgeable host. Thank you. We'll see all of you at the feast. (Robb smiles and departs with his siblings)

Myrcella: (reprimanding tone) Tommen you must try to be more polite to strangers. Especially when it comes to things like religion. You can't just speak what's on your mind all the time.

Steffon: He's only eight, he'll learn. There's no harm in it. Need I remind you how you acted when you were eight?

Tommen: But I really wanted to know. How was I going to know if I didn't ask it?

Steffon: (chuckles and slaps Tommen's back) Let's go back to our tower and get washed up and ready before mother finds out how far we've gone. I think I remember the way.

(The Great Hall is in a long rectangular with a high table at the far end and seating benches placed in vertical rows, seating four hundred people comfortably. Boisterous music is playing from the second floor where there is a balcony overlooking the hall. A wide variety of dishes, mostly wild game are placed strategically on all the tables and the guests are riotous and very merry. Large jugs of ale are borne by servants who intermingle with the guests dancing and conversing with them. The King is not seated at the high table but is in the midst of the guests and servants, groping various women serving him wine. Steffon is at one of the side tables with his siblings and Joffrey closest to the high table. The atmosphere among them however is subdued.)

Steffon: (to Joffrey) I hear father has made betrothal arrangements between you and Lady Sansa. (takes a swig of ale and grimaces) Water please! (gesturing to a servant) Look she keeps throwing glances in your direction. (Joffrey largely ignores his brother but returns Sansa's glances and smiles) I hope she is to your liking and you'll make her happy.

Myrcella: These northern dishes are very heavy and there's so much of it. (she looks flushed)

Steffon: (seriously) Little lady shouldn't eat and drink too much. (Pats her on the shoulder.) I assure you'll regret it in the morning. Now if you excuse me I need to take a breath of fresh air. It's absolutely stifling in here. (Steffon edges his way slowly to the exit, the crowd mostly parts as he approaches.)

(Outside he stays still for a moment, thinking to himself than trots to his tower when a loud whacking sound catches his attention and he heads for that direction cautiously. He observes Jon Snow for a minute whacking a dummy with strength and ferocity for a minute than approaches him.)

Steffon: Hello! (Jon turns) Practicing at this time of the hour?

Jon: (Glares at him does not recognize him and turns back to the whacking)

Steffon: You're pretty good you know. Fast and ferocious. Precise. How about a practice spar to blow off steam?

(Jon turns and Steffon picks up a dulled practice sword lying at the corner taking a few practice swings. Jon charges and Steffon parries patiently moving until an opening presents itself, using deft footwork to evade and counter his attacks. He shows no great strain and is only slightly out of breath at the end of the intense duel when he manages to drive his elbow partway into his ribs which gives him a half second to sweep his sword to Jon's neck as he turns. Jon grimaces and lowers his sword looking shocked)

Jon: Is that how good soldiers are down south? How old are you anyway?

Steffon: (nonchalantly) No you needn't worry. I'm sure the average northman could outfight a southerner actually. I'm fifteen although people have said I look older.

Jon: (suddenly realizes) My prince! I'm sorry but I didn't recognize you at first (bows).

Steffon: Yes well it's my hair that my mother wanted me to do up. But no need for that except in public. You can call me Steffon.

Jon: I'm Jon… Snow. I'm Ned Stark's son.

Steffon: Ah I could have guessed. You do resemble your father somewhat.

Jon: Do you want to have another go? With live steel. (He picks up his steel sword. Calming down suddenly and looking embarrassed) Only a bastard can't hit a prince.

Steffon: (amusedly) A bastard can hit a prince with a prince's permission. But my sword would ruin your blade.

Jon: What do you mean?

Steffon: It's valyrian steel.

Jon: Where did you get a Valyrian steel blade?

Steffon: It's a long story but I unexpectedly found it in one of the dungeons of the Red Keep. Did you ever think about becoming a knight? There are plenty of places where they could use a good sword like yours. You're really quite good. I was forced to use my full strength and concentration and couldn't relax

Jon: Yeah well you were a lot better still. And you're younger.

Steffon: But I trained with the best. I've spent two hours per day with Ser Barristan since I could walk. He sort of took me on as his apprentice.

Jon: Then are you a knight?

Steffon: (smiles) No. I just wanted to avoid squire duties if I could help it so I never actually squired for anyone. Anyway it was nice talking to you Jon, I have something really important to do so you'll have to excuse me.

(Steffon is in his room at his desk rubbing his chin as he deliberates. Finally he grabs a roll of parchment and dips his quill in ink and begins to write. He pauses now and then before resuming. About thirty minutes later, he gathers up the scroll and reaching in his bags grabs a seal but does not stamp. He addresses the anonymous letter to Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He then leaves the tower and asks a servant the directions to the library. Blazing torches are lit in the corridors as he makes his way past the courtyard again where Jon is still whacking a dummy and round the great hall ascending yet another stone drum tower, thicker and with far less windows. The winding stairway leads to Winterfell's library a circular room with upper levels housing a multitude of shelves and tomes. Candles give dim light to the room and casts flickering shadows. The air is musty and full of dust. Steffon climbs up two levels and finds the rookery situated in an adjacent room. In another room connecting to the rookery Steffon finds the empty Maester's study and lays the scroll across the desk immediately centre. He exits back in the library and browses several tomes of interest for another half hour before returning to his tower and after a half hour more of reading his own tomes, blows out the candles to sleep)


	2. Chapter 2

(It is just after dawn as Steffon shakes off his slumbers and dips his face into a bowl of cold water that had been conveniently placed there by a servant. He exits his room and peeps through the door of his siblings who are still fast asleep and passes several guards on his way down from the tower, who salute him and bow their heads. The courtyard is deathly still and the weather is chilly so he runs back up for his cloak. He enters the library tower once more and makes his way to the Maesters' study. Maester Luwin is already wide awake, with a finished breakfast plate by his side and Steffon raps on the door)

Maester Luwin: Come in.

Steffon: (turns the knob and steps into the room) Maester, good morning. Forgive me for disturbing you so early. I was having a look at the impressive Winterfell collection and I was wondering if you had a tome about the history of the Night's Watch, as well as one on the rivalry between the old Kings of Winter and the Red Kings.

Maester Luwin: (chuckles and bows his head) My prince. (Getting up from his chair) You're an ardent student of history I take it. (As Maester Luwin's back is turned, Steffon spies the desk and notes that the letter is gone) We certainly have many tomes on those subjects, this being Winterfell, many works have been housed here for hundreds of years.

Steffon: I was wondering if I could borrow a few during my duration of stay.

Maester Luwin: Certainly, but remember to treat the binding gently and with respect. It is very fragile. (They walk out of the rookery. Maester Luwin seemingly by memory heads to two shelves on opposite sides of the room and pulls out two tomes)

Steffon: Thank you maester. When I return it, shall I just leave it on your desk?

Maester Luwin: (gives him a rather odd look) Yes, yes that would be fine.

(Steffon departs back to his room to deposit the books and retrieves his longsword. He heads to the practice yard which is still deserted, this being the early morning after the feast. Ignoring the rumbles of hunger from his stomach, he forces himself to go through an hour and half of drills until he spots Myrcella, Tommen, and an accompaniment of guards walking towards him.)

Steffon: Breakfast! Finally I'm half starved and I know they don't start serving until a decent number of people are down here. Are mother and father still asleep?

Myrcella: Passed out with wine. I saw three tankards bedside when I went to visit and the snore. And Joffrey was shouting the whole night didn't you hear?

Tommen: Mother wasn't with him though. She was sleeping in another room.

Myrcella: (to Tommen) Hush! Not that my head isn't spinning today. And you could have gotten something from the kitchens if you'd asked.

Steffon: (taking Myrcella by the arm) Come on then. (The siblings march back to the Feast Hall which is beginning to open as servants file in carrying plates of cold food, feast leftovers, fruit, bread, and porridge. Upon seeing the three they bow low and prepare a section of the table for them)

Steffon: So any plans?

Myrcella: (yawns) First I have to recover.

Steffon: (chewing slowly then swallows) You managed to hide it pretty well from mother I take it?

Myrcella: Don't know why she'd get upset. She drank twice as much as I did.

Tommen: (eating furiously) I want to go hunting! Father'll go, he always does when he visits someplace new.

Steffon: If he ever wakes up.

Myrcella: (elbows her brother)

Steffon: Bet you 10 coppers he doesn't wake past noon.

Myrcella: (smiles not looking at Steffon) You're on.

Steffon: (quietly) I would've liked to draw a few architectural studies of Winterfell but I'm afraid that might be seen quite unfavourably now that I think about it. Especially here in the North.

Myrcella: (lowering her voice) I wouldn't if I were you. And I swear if those Red Keep plans ever fell into the hands of enemies, all those hidden passageways, notes on fortifications, secret tunnels…

Steffon: (snorts) As if Varys did not know them all, or Baelish. Trust me, if they wanted to aid an attacker, our high walls would be completely useless. But enough of that, (puts down his fork and knife), I'm done here. Call on me when father wakes. (Prepares to depart the Great Hall)

(Steffon's uncles Jaime and Tyrion Lannister enters. Tyrion is squat, standing just over four feet high with dirty blonde hair, an oversized head and hands, and a piercing gaze. Jaime sports the white cloak and armour of the Kingsguard, and is slightly taller than Steffon, he looks at him with clear and unmistakable dislike and struts past. Steffon groans.)

Jaime: (with characteristic smile) My dearest nieces and nephews. A good morning to you all. (Plumbs down next to Tommen and Myrcella.)

Tyrion: Yes yes. It's been quite a morning, and evening too if I recall. (His brow is knit together with false concentration). If I recall correctly (his head tilts), we had a feast last night, and you my dear (to Myrcella) became so drunk Jaime had to carry you and you threw up on the goats while passing airborne. (Chiding) Not very becoming for a princess.

Steffon: Yes well it was her first time. At least I should think.

Tyrion: And you (rounding on Steffon wagging a finger) have never been drunk your entire life, despite my valiant efforts.

Steffon: Neither has Joffrey really.

Tyrion: Yes, well he acts pretty much as if he were all the time. (helps himself to a plate of eggs)

Jaime: (abruptly) Steffon! How about a spar later on the grounds?

Steffon: (carefully) Surely uncle there are plenty of soldiers here in Winterfell that you would like to test their mettle. You can spar with me any old time back in King's Landing?

Jaime: (waves hand dismissively) None of them are worth the energy wasted. So how about it nephew, (lowering voice) unless you feel you might embarrass yourself in front of all of Winterfell. (Tyrion gives Jaime a warning glance and Myrcella looks on furiously)

Steffon: (testily) It would surely be no dishonour to lose to you uncle. You are an experienced warrior, a Kingsguard and the most renowned swordsman in the Kingdoms.

Jaime: So you love reminding me. Yet we've never fought.

Steffon: I'm only fifteen.

Jaime: And yet you claim yourself capable of protecting Myrcella and Tommen (gesturing to them) I would like to see myself if that were in any way true.

Steffon: Very well uncle I would also like to test my skills against you.

Jaime: Good! (Slaps Steffon heavily on the shoulders. Steffon does not buckle.) Shall we say noon then after we've both fully digested? (Steffon nods stiffly, turns and departs. Jaime calls over his shoulder) I've been wanting something to swing my sword at.

(It is noon and a whole courtyard of people has assembled to watch the sparring match between Jaime and Steffon. Jaime is already present dressed in full armour sparkling in the weak sun. Steffon arrives five minutes late, wearing heavy leather armour and chain mail around the breeches, neck and vital areas. They are standing approximately fifteen feet apart. Jaime's sword is out pointing at Steffon.)

Jaime: You're late! Let's get this started!

Steffon: (addressing the crowd) I'll need a shield as I fight better with one. Could I borrow an Ironwood? (A servant runs and fetches him one carved with the Stark wolf)

Jaime: So you fight for them now? I see.

Steffon: Don't be stupid. Shall we be using live steel?

Jaime: (mockingly) Of course! I mean, what did you expect? This isn't one of your practice bouts with Ser Barristan (crowd boos) and I'm certainly not going to take it easy against you.

Steffon: The King…

Jaime: …is still asleep unfortunately. I'm sure he'd like to see this. But by the time he wakes you might have already received a few gashes to your arms, legs, nothing serious of course…

Steffon: (smiles)

Jaime: Why are you smiling?

Steffon: Myrcella owes me 10 coppers. And that sword is going to be ruined if you fight me with it. I bear Valyrian steel.

Jaime: (shrugs recklessly) So what? (Charges. Steffon draws his sword and assumes a defensive stance. Jaime attacks Steffon relentlessly raining blows down upon him as he wards off strikes with parries and his shield, retreating, fighting cautiously, and minimizing his target that is exposed. He counterattacks with quick thrusts which are easily knocked aside and he keeps his distance, moving to maneuver and frustrate Jaime. After fifty inconclusive exchanges of the sword, Jaime begins to taunt Steffon for his style of fighting. Steffon continues to ignore him and Jaime who is in heavy plate begins to tire. Fifty more exchanges, and Jaime's sword is ruined, pockmarked, dulled and scratched)

Steffon: (panting heavily) You're sword is done uncle, you'll need a new one. (Jaime ignores him and continues to hack and hammer down on Steffon's defences even more aggressively while avoiding his counterstrikes. Steffon, losing stamina after twenty minutes of intense fighting can do little more than parry and defend, scoring light hits on his armour which due to his weapon cuts and dents it. Jaime smashes his armoured left shoulder on Steffon's shield attempting to shove him backwards but Steffon manages to hold his ground and eventually pushes him back clear. The two continue to circle each other. Jaime is more cautious now employing feints and looking for a way and strategy to bring down Steffon's defences…)

Cersei: STOP! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU TWO ARE DOING.

Steffon: Mother. (bows slightly and sheathes his sword immediately. His shoulders are heaving under strain and tiredness and sweat is pouring off him. Cersei strides over to her son, examines him for a moment then rounds on Jaime and smacks him on the head as soon as he takes off his helmet. The crowd echoes disappointment that the fight has been stopped)

Jaime: Listen to them, they wanted this fight. The Golden Prince against the Golden Knight. None of us are hurt! Your boy does a pretty good job covering up and hiding himself. I'll give him that.

Steffon: (exhales deeply and walks away from them. He walks with a slightly limp after his left hip was bruised by a strike. Myrcella runs to his side fury on her face as she tries to support her brother)

Myrcella: I'm going to kill him. I don't know what's wrong with him but that was completely uncalled for.

Steffon: (dully) It's fine. A bruise. I'll be better in a few hours.

Myrcella: I just don't understand. (Steffon gives her a pointed look) Why he hates you so much? He's always nice to Tommen… and me, when we're alone with him, and he even tolerates Joffrey. But he hates you. He's always hated you.

Steffon: (resignedly) It doesn't matter. I don't care really, and I can handle him. It's a little hassle that's all.

Myrcella: (admiringly) And I didn't know you were such a good fighter already. I'd heard Ser Barristan praise you at court but I never thought… Anyway why don't you enter the lists and try to become a knight?

Steffon: (bows his head, his chest still heaving as he struggles to talk) Little lady I may be good with the sword, and mayhaps the bow, but I'm absolutely shit with the lance. Every time I take it in my hand I lose all balance and I'm liable to topple over my horse while striking with it.

(Robert has just descended from the stairs of his tower with four Kingsguard behind him and spots Steffon.)

Robert: (booms) Steffon! Hunting!

Steffon: (sighs) Not today father! I've been injured while sparring and I'm not up to it. Another time maybe.

Myrcella: (addressing Robert) Father he needs to rest. He was sparring with Uncle Jaime today.

Robert: Oh! And you do it while I'm still sleeping eh boy? That's a match I would've killed to see. Ah well.

Steffon: (to Myrcella) Could you tell a servant to fetch a bucket of cold water, and a clean towel as well as some cloth for bandages? Bring them to my room will you, there's a good lass. (Myrcella scurries off)

Robert: Well I won't keep you. I have an appointment with Ned! (walks off) Time to see how much he's forgotten to use a spear in the last nine years!

(In Steffon's room he is half undressed, Myrcella is tending to Steffon's injured hip and bandaging a large cut to his wrist)

Myrcella: You should really get a maester to do it you know. I only know how to do this a little bit.

Steffon: (smiling at her then looks out the window) I will if it's a serious injury. (Myrcella makes a face at him and finishes)

Myrcella: There! Perfect. I saw the fight and you were fighting quite defensively. Was it because you had no choice and Jaime was too good?

Steffon: Well beside from the fact that it's safer for me that way, Ser Barristan always told me that a valyrian weapon is a dangerous thing to be swinging around, one accidental strike to the neck could easily kill. (He looks at the weapon which is sheathed on his table) He also told me never to use it unless I was in a battle or a real fight. So he'd be disappointed with me today I imagine.

Myrcella: So why didn't you use someone else's sword?

Steffon: (grimly) Jaime was that good. I wouldn't have been able to hold him with an ordinary blade. (Pauses) And this thing is a life saver and I imagine I'll owe my life to it one day.

Myrcella: You should give it a name then.

Steffon: (looking at her) I've tried, can't think of anything suitable yet. (Takes her hand which is still examining the hip and removes it) Right it's done. (Slips into a silken shirt) Have fun persuading father, or rather mother to let Tommen come with him. (As Myrcella leaves, he opens one of the tomes from the library and begins to read, grimacing every once in a while)

(It is late afternoon as Steffon walks by himself examining the ruined stone structures around him, the older parts of Winterfell that have fallen in disrepair. He appears to be thinking and mutters under his breath. All of a sudden his eye catches sight on something and running forwards as fast as he can he spots the prone form of Bran lying on the ground under the shadow of a tower surrounded with vines and with many stepping stones. His eyes narrow as he calculates distances and trajectories. His face grows hard. He screams suddenly for aid and closes his eyes for a moment schooling his emotions. He dares not touch Bran for fear of aggravating the injury)


	3. Chapter 3

(It is the morning after Bran's fall. There is a subdued atmosphere in Winterfell broken only by urgent whispers and tense mutterings among soldiers, servants. Steffon is walking past the barn when he suddenly stops seeing a familiar head protruding from a bushel of hay.)

Steffon: (rests his arms on the ledge) Uncle, good morning. May I ask why you decided to sleep in the pen again, for two drunken nights in a row? Is it really very comfortable?

Tyrion: Steffon! We did not see much of you yesterday! After the incident, I understand it was you who found Bran first.

Steffon: I did. As you imagine I was rather traumatized and had some thinking of my own to do.

Tyrion: (straightens up with hay and mud sticking all over his clothes, and gestures over himself brushing it off) And as for this, not everyone can be as perfect as you are, understand this. Such a chaste goody shoes. Unnatural I call it. (unbolts the hatch and steps out of the pen) Time for breakfast I suppose. (Walks with Steffon following) What happened to Bran yesterday was a dreadful accident, but was it really necessary to brood?

Steffon: What I'm concerned about is how the Starks would take it given that it happened while the Lannisters were under their roof. The tower was an easy climb, it was not raining, the sun was shining, it was a pleasant day. And the King was away.

Tyrion: Did I ever tell you you have the wits of my father Tywin Lannister, and the physique of your father, the young Robert Baratheon. That's why you're such a sharp, dangerous little thing, aren't you?

Steffon: (ignoring him) And now the Starks will be making their way down to King's Landing, or the Lion's Den. I'll be having a word with your brother at breakfast.

Tyrion: (sardonic tone) I heard you fought him to a draw yesterday and my sister was not pleased.

Steffon: Not one bit. And he ruined his sword so he's had to borrow one from his fellow Kingsguard. But mother considers it a brazen display of disunity between the Lannisters and Baratheons which is stupid when we have a new party joining our midst.

Tyrion: What do you think?

Steffon: I think Uncle Jaime either doesn't care or doesn't think so deep.

(They reach the Great Hall and march to the round table where the Royal Family is having breakfast, still leftovers from the feast two nights ago)

Steffon: So what are you guys discussing so discretely this morning?

Myrcella: Tyrion wants to visit the Wall. I wish to accompany him. Mother refuses.

Tommen: I want to go as well.

Steffon: Well, let's argue the case reasonably shall we? I believe that when somebody wants to do something the burden of argument rests upon those who wish to prevent them from doing what they wish. (Taking a sip of water) So mother, why the negative?

Cersei: (a restrained voice) It's too dangerous. There are bandits, robbers, wildlings in this part of the country. It's a savage place. The Wall is high and made of ice.

Steffon: A valid point. But not if you take forty guards and four Kingsguard.

Cersei: It's too far.

Steffon: A week's ride at most.

Myrcella: Have you noticed that when you talk to Uncle Tyrion you start sounding like him? (Tyrion covers his smile with his hands)

Steffon: (looking at her grinning) He does have that effect on me yes. In close proximity. (to Cersei) Anyway I'm sure Tommen and Myrcella will decide to go for themselves when they come of age.

Cersei: And why would you make that assumption?

Steffon: I believe every individual who lives in the Seven Kingdoms should go and see the Wall once in their lifetime, if they are able. It's a great wonder of the world and it's on our very doorstep. To see anything else so marvellous you'd have to travel halfway across the world.

Cersei: Then why aren't you going, my son?

Steffon: That brings me to my second point that I wish to discuss. (breaking out) I've been appointed to the Small Council by father. So I guess I'll have to wait to see it another time.

Tyrion: (gobsmacked) You're on the small council! Congratulations! (wringing Steffon's hand) You'll have to tell me all about it.

Cersei: The small council. Robert appointed you, for what reason?

Steffon: (shrugs) I could be useful to him, hear what's going on. Anything to get him a bit more involved in running the kingdoms.

Cersei: (snorts) You are a child with no experience in these matters. How could you possibly be of any help to the Council.

Steffon: (patiently) Which is why I am merely an observer at the moment. I shall sit in meetings and digest whatever is being said. Nothing more, I won't have an official post or responsibilities of any kind.

Myrcella: (chipping in) Have you heard the news about Bran, Steffon? The maester says he'll live.

Steffon: That's great! (catches the involuntary shifts of movement and expression on both his mother and uncle) Maybe when he wakes up he'll be able to tell us how he fell, I'm quite curious about it myself. In fact I climbed the tower right afterwards. It had very sure footing holes and stepping stones. Child's play really.

Myrcella: Steffon it's really bad luck to do that.

Steffon: Oh sister, I don't believe in superstition. And anyways the odds wouldn't favour two such accidents happening on the same day. But I will tell you what I do believe. (not looking at anyone in particular) From the trajectory of the fall and where he landed, it seems as if he was pushed. And he fell on the side where there is an opening to the tower. I had hoped for a peaceful trip to Winterfell. But I found him a clear five feet from the base.

Jaime: And tell me… nephew, why nobody else has come to the conclusion that you apparently have?

Steffon: (Pausing in a level voice speaking carefully) Because I was the one who found him first. And because everyone else was understandably distracted by what they saw. But the distance from the tower that I found his body surely means that he was either pushed or he decided to throw himself off the tower. The trajectory suggests he was pushed with force. (Eats forcefully and spots movement in the window outside)

Cersei: You won't tell the Starks what you think. Poison their attitudes towards us.

Steffon: No… But I am afraid they might come to the wrong conclusions themselves. Excuse me I see Bran's mother and I have yet to offer my condolences and sympathies. (Gets up without looking at them) (Jaime and Cersei exchange rapid-fire looks. Tyrion resumes eating. Myrcella looks worried)

(Outside a line of well-wishers have gathered around Catelyn Stark who is tear-stained and dressed in black, and looking quite helpless and forlorn. Steffon lines up and waits for his turn.)

Steffon: (kneels before her taking her hands. She is not looking at him) My Lady Stark, I am deeply sorry for what has befallen Bran and offer you my deepest condolences. I don't know if anyone has informed you but it was I who found Bran initially.

Catelyn: (stares at Steffon, shaking, unseeing, and with an unsteady voice) Y-you… f-found him first?

Steffon: (in a low voice whispering in her ear) My lady, if I were you I would post guards outside your son's room for the time being. (She looks at him with incomprehension then turns and flees down the corridor. Steffon exhales deeply and walks away)

(Steffon is standing outside Ned Stark's quarters and knocks twice)

Ned: Enter.

(Steffon walks in and Ned, looking surprised to see him gestures for to him to sit)

Ned: My wife told me of your warning.

Steffon: Yes and I was being serious.

Ned: Are you the one who sent me that letter then?

Steffon: (nods) I had hoped to wait until King's Landing to introduce myself but it appears my hand is now forced.

Ned: (visibly seething) Do you know who pushed my son off that tower?

Steffon: No. And you don't know that he was pushed.

Ned: (angrily) If the Lannisters…

Steffon: (cutting him off) My Lord Stark when in the capital I'd advise you to keep your voice down at all times when holding these sort of conversations.

Ned: Why are you here then?

Steffon: Both to warn and advise you. You claim the Lannisters tried to murder your son. My family. My question is why? Why would they attempt to brazenly murder your child like that? When they are in your home, with the King around no less.

Ned: (averting his eyes) Perhaps he saw something he was not meant to see.

Steffon: And can you Lord Stark, imagine anything so terrible that could be seen in a tower that the Lannisters would be compelled to push your son off of it. But not terrible enough that they did not feel the need to slit his throat afterwards. (Ned rises) I meant no offence my Lord. I'm merely stating the facts and hypotheticals.

Ned: (Reluctantly) Perhaps they were plotting, conspiring and the boy overheard.

Steffon: (More to himself) And the Lannisters chose to discuss their plans in your home, for some reason. And instead of doing the plotting in the quarters you have so graciously given them they decided to do it in the midst of wilderness.

Ned: (solemnly) What are you suggesting? I fail to see any purpose in this discussion.

Steffon: When you come down to King's Landing to take up the post of Hand of the King there are several things you must understand. I'm here to tell you about them.

Ned: What are they?

Steffon: You must understand first of all that I speak for no one but Robert and that everything I hear and you tell me I am liable to tell my father, the King.

Ned: (looks confused) Of course.

Steffon: There are five members on the small council, apart from me and you. Do you know who they are?

Ned: (Reciting) Your uncles. Renly Baratheon, Master of Laws. Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships. Lord Baelish, Master of Coin. Grand Maester Pycelle. Lord Varys, Master of Whispers. Does Ser Barristan Selmy not sit on the Council?

Steffon: No he does not. Now I recently joined the Council after you were intended to be named Hand of the King. What do you think is the role of a Hand, or any council member really?

Ned: To run the Kingdoms and its affairs.

Steffon: And do you not see that family grudges, personal vendettas, plots of revenge may undermine such a task?

Ned: If the law is broken, if there is injustice, it must be opposed. And justice must be done.

Steffon: I am suggesting you put aside whatever feelings and suspicions you have for the Lannisters for the time being in order to fulfill your responsibilities. As someone now with power, I'm suggesting you do not do anything rash to upheave the existing balance of power. I will work with you to find out what happened to Bran. I promise. But I will not do anything that seriously disrupts the fabric of the Kingdoms, or attempts to dramatically reshape the playing field. That is not only dangerous for us, but if things cannot be controlled it is the smallfolk that must pay in times of war. Understand this. There is a balance of power and the Lannisters have interests that they wish to defend. That I am certain. Just as Baratheons like myself have their interests. Even the Tyrells have a presence in the capital. And until recently, the Arryns had interests as well. But not only the Great Houses. Baelish has an agenda as does Varys.

Ned: I do not see why this has to be so difficult. Surely the King has the final say in these matters? If Robert was intent on helping me and I had evidence suggesting that the Lannisters were responsible…

Steffon: King Robert is married to a Lannister. Why do you think he married one? My mother is a Lannister. I am half Lannister. When everything is so intertwined it's never so simple.

Ned: If Robert were to move on the Lannisters, as he is King and had good, just reason to do so-

Steffon: And how, the City Watch is theirs, and through Baelish much of the city's underworld and economy. Tywin funds Robert's lavish spending. Lannister gold buys many informers and turn-cloaks. My father is surrounded by Lannister men. There are a thousand Lannister soldiers in the capital. You are taking 50 of your household guard to the Capital. And your daughters as well. There is no alternative but war.

Ned: What about formal trials to expose lawbreakers and injustice?

Steffon: But you have no proof as of yet and even if you did, they will simply declare Trial by Combat and you would have to face either my uncle or the Mountain, or mayhaps both together. You cannot win Lord Stark. So you have two options. You can either fight a war to change everything all at once, and risk everything, or you can work slowly in the shadows, with me, to alter things bit by bit.

Ned: If it comes to war…

Steffon: It's a bit hard to fight a war if they're allowed to capture you first.

Ned: So how many men would you have me take?

Steffon: (Glances out the window at the fading sunlight) Any more and you arouse their suspicions. Play on the fact that you're naive. It does not matter if you have 50 or 500, they will still be slaughtered if it comes to battle. So the key thing is to make sure it never comes to that. Play smart and never give them a reason to move against you. We will speak again in King's Landing and not before.

Ned: Prince Steffon, did Robert send you?

Steffon: No, I recommended myself to him. I feel I can best help you Lord Stark, because I know the environment. I grew up in the Red Keep. I am on good terms with my father as you are with him. But I do not want the kingdoms plunged into war because of Stark and Lannister rivalry. (Rises from the chair) Take care Lord Stark.

Ned: (hesitantly) Jon Arryn-

Steffon: -knew how to play the game. He played for reasons which he thought were good intentions and he lost. I believe he paid for that with his life.


	4. Chapter 4

(It is nearly three weeks after their departure from Winterfell, the King's party which has now swelled to four hundred people are making their way south and have set up camp near the Cross-Roads Inn. Dozens of large tents, red, gold, black, and grey lie in rows near the riverbanks. Further south down the river, Steffon, Arya and the butcher's boy Mycah are walking on a muddy trail surrounded by long spades of grass.)

Steffon: Well, I did promise that I would teach you whenever I had the spare time. But I meant King's Landing after you had been settled.

Arya: (snappish) We have time now. I don't see you going anywhere, with anything to do. And Mycah wants to learn too.

Mycah: My prince. (bowing awestruck)

Steffon: I thought you two were thinking of looking for Rhaegar's rubies down at the Ford.

Arya: We did. But there was nothing there.

Steffon: (sighing) Not surprising. The tides come and go. Well alright. Find a stick that feels right both of you.

(Mycah and Arya both venture off before returning a few minutes later with sticks. Steffon instructs them to stand about ten feet apart.)

Steffon: Before I do anything, I hope, Arya, that your father has given his consent allowing you to learn swordplay. You're going to get plenty of scratches and bumps by the time this is over. And I have to warn you that I'm not a great teacher.

Arya: You beat Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.

Steffon: Don't call him that. And it was only a draw technically. But great warriors aren't necessarily great teachers.

Arya: You busted up his sword. That's a win to me. And I don't care what my father thinks. (determinedly) I want to learn.

Steffon: (sighs again deeply) Alright. Now first of all-

Arya: Nymeria! (Steffon turns sharply and is surprised to see Arya's direwolf only a few feet away sniffing at him.) Stay. (Nymeria sits on the forest floor and begins howling)

Steffon: I was wondering about the direwolves. You say you found them south of the Wall?

Arya: Jon, Robb, Bran did. When they were returning to behead a deserter of the Night's Watch.

Steffon: (looks uneasy) Curious. And six pups for the six of you. Has your father ever questioned why the desertion rates of the Night's Watch have quadrupled in the last year?

Arya: (impatiently) Are we here to talk about the Night's Watch or to learn swordplay?

Steffon: Alright. Alright… Now the first thing you must understand is that everyone has his unique style of fighting. Even if you follow the standard norms, everyone has their little deviations, variations, because everyone is different. Some are small, some are strong. Some are quick and skillful, others strike well, others like to parry or have good footwork. Plus factor in different kinds of weapons and armour and you have endless combinations. If you want to fight, and you want to stay alive, the key is to be versatile and smart. Otherwise the first time you fight anyone whose style matches up well against yours… you'll be in serious trouble.

Steffon: There are seven basic strikes that everyone knows and commonly uses, at least for one-handed swordplay and all beginners have to learn them. The first is the forward slash. From your top of your sword arm to the hip of your opposite side. (Demonstrates. Arya and Mycah copy him) The second is forward stab either sidehand or underhand. (Demonstrates) The third is sideways slash from the opposite shoulder and follow through. (Demonstrates). The fourth is upper slash, the opposite of forward slash from the hip of your opposite side and follow through. The fifth is the sweeping slash, from the side here, bringing your sword to the front. (Arya and Mycah continue to copy) The sixth is the over-the-sword arm shoulder strike either hitting straight or to the side. The seventh is the opposite shoulder strike nearly the opposite of the forward slash.

Arya: (brows in confusion) That's all the attacks?

Steffon: Well you must remember that you can execute them in all sorts of ways. While in movement, while stationary, while retreating while lunging forward. The swing can be wide or it can be close. (Demonstrates) There are of course more moves but these seven are used 99% of the time. Now I want you to practice each strike a hundred times before we continue. (To Arya shaking his head with bemusement) And slowly at first. Or you might strain your arm. Be steady with your arm movements. Aim and be focused, not sloppy.

Steffon: (After fifteen minutes have lapsed watching them) Good! Now usually instructors will teach the seven parries as well as the seven strikes. But I find that any defence that is regimented to be quite useless because your opponent certainly won't restrict himself in attacking you in seven ways. Therefore you'll both take it in turns to strike each other. One strike, and one parry or dodge at a time, the best you can, then switch.

(Joffrey arrives at the scene with Sansa at tow, drinking bemusedly from his flask as they walk hand and hand into the forest clearing where Arya and Mycah are practicing, taking it in turns to strike at each other.)

Arya: (Panting heavily) When are we ready to strike several times at once?

Steffon: (chuckling) When you've practiced this drill an hour per day for a few months. And you still have to learn to strike trees and their painted targets. Swordplay is largely a product of muscle memory.

Arya: (distracted) Trees and painted targets? Ow! (Takes a blow on her forearm that leaves a bruise)

Steffon: Good strike Mycah! (Mycah blushes with his head bowed)

Joffrey: (suddenly in a mocking tone) Good strike Mycah? (Draws his sword and draws closer to the group menacingly. Steffon turns.) (Addressing Mycah) Did you know that was the sister of my betrothed you were hitting? Answer me, boy.

Mycah: My Lord, I m-mean My Prince, we were just practicing with-

Joffrey: And brother (rounding on Steffon) aren't you ashamed to be mingling with this lot? (Gesturing towards Mycah) (Slyly) When mother hears I imagine she'll have a few words especially for you.

Arya: (fiercely with her stick out at Joffrey) You leave us alone!

Joffrey: (mockingly) Little girl wants to be a knight? (Draws sword and slices the stick in Arya's hand savagely in half) (Points it back to Mycah) Pick up your stick boy, I want to see how good you are.

Steffon: How good do you think he'll be? He only started learning half an hour ago.

Joffrey: (turning on his brother with a threatening expression) I wasn't asking you. Now I won't say it again. Pick up your stick or watch me bury this in your fat neck.

Steffon: There's no need for this brother. Let the boy go on his way and we can return to camp.

Arya: If you touch him I'll hit you with this. (brandishes a new stick) And I'll tell everyone. My father. Your father. Your mother. Everyone.

Sansa: (watching fearfully) Arya! Stay out of this.

Arya: (to Sansa) You shut up! Why are you encouraging him?

(Mycah is frozen with fear as Joffrey pauses with the tip of his sword held an inch from his eyelids, as he waves it lazily about, relishing the sight. Steffon draws his own sword and points it at his brother)

Steffon: (sternly) Put that thing away.

Joffrey: (sneering but with a touch of fear) If mother knew you had that thing out pointed at me she'll take it from you.

Steffon: You're right. (Sheathes) (Joffrey suddenly lunges forward, as if on impulse intent on stabbing his brother. Steffon easily sidesteps his flailing, uncoordinated strike and lands a blow with his fist to his jaw knocking him backwards staggering)

Joffrey: (with his hand to his mouth) Y-youarh… Ib tellin' mbother. (flees the scene)

Steffon: (To Mycah) Leave now immediately. (Calling over his shoulder) You live above the butcher's shop in the village? Go home at once. And stay there! (Mycah nods hesitantly and flees in the opposite direction) (To Arya and Sansa) Now I'm in trouble. Let's leave.

Arya: (angrily) But why? You didn't do anything. Joffrey tried to stab you with his sword and he was about to hurt Mycah!

Steffon: (in a low voice) Yes but he wouldn't tell it that way.

Arya: But it's all our words against his!

Steffon: (smiling) You wouldn't understand. He's the Crown Prince. Anyway I have to hurry. (Begins to run) I'll see you back in the camp!

(Steffon runs in the forest, avoiding snares until he reaches the edge, then he rounds on the opposite side of the camp where they left and composes himself. He walks up to a Yellow and Black tent flying the Baratheon stag and calls out)

Steffon: Ser Raymont, Ser Gowen!

(Two men immediately exit the tent garbed in plate armour and salute him)

Ser Gowen: My prince!

Steffon: Go immediately into the village and stand guard over the butcher's shop. You'll only find one in the area. Stay there for a day and night after the King's party has left and if anyone armed should approach to enter warn them of the consequences of attacking and killing two Baratheon knights. Protect those that live inside.

Both Sers: At once! (bows and turns to leave)

(Steffon exhales deeply and begins to walk towards the King's tent, the largest, grandest and fattest one in the middle, where a small crowd of guards have already gathered. Steffon approaches and the crowd parts for him. He walks into the tent and makes for the elevated section where his father and mother are sat, and Joffrey is already by their side still whimpering and clutching his jaw, and bows low. Myrcella, Tommen are not in the scene. Sansa and Arya are standing at the side with Ned Stark who is looking at Steffon who does not look back)

Robert: (low dangerous voice) Now, boy. What did I tell you about fighting with your brother again?

Steffon: (with a level voice) Father, there was a misunderstanding between Joffrey and I today that was the cause of our conflict. I did not intend to strike at Joffrey and-

Joffrey: LIES! They all attacked me! Him and that girl and that peasant boy all together! They attacked me with their swords and sticks and he struck me here!

Steffon: I am sorry brother. I am glad your jaw seems to have recovered (Joffrey fumes) but Arya and the peasant boy were not at fault, nor were they involved. They had no swords. I was coaching Arya on swordplay and she needed an opponent on her level. So I recruited the butcher's boy. Then Joffrey turned up and misunderstood the situation, thinking that Arya was being hurt by the boy when in reality she was merely practicing with him. With sticks. I tried to explain the situation to him but he was rash and drew his sword to defend his betrothed's sister. We duelled and I held him off and gave him the blow. (his mother gives him an appraising look)

Cersei: Is that what happened, my son?

Joffrey: (looks down sullenly) Yes (suddenly stops fidgeting and grows very still) Yes father I was overcome with anger at the moment and I made some wrongful accusations. (forced and looks ashamed) I apologize.

Robert: (snorts)

Steffon: (suddenly) Joffrey acquitted himself quite well with his sword, I was surprised. (His mother continues to give him searching looks)

Robert: (snorts again and rounds on Joffrey) Just how dumb are you to think that your brother would let the girl be attacked by some peasant boy and stand idly by. (thumps his fist on his chair) I'm done with this! Wine!

Steffon: (bows again and makes to leave the tent. His mother calls after him)

Cersei: (quietly) Steffon, my son. (Joffrey gives her a vicious glance) May I speak with you alone for a moment.

Steffon: (smiles) Certainly mother. (follows her out of the tent. Outside the two walk together side by side, Steffon is a clear head taller than his mother. She takes Steffon's hand in his and whispers in his ear)

Cersei: Didn't I tell you never to turn your sword on your brother?

Steffon: (low voice) I didn't. As you can see it was a blow from the fist, not a sword wound. But he did draw on me. (Her face remains impassive.)

Cersei: -And he did this in front of the Stark girls? (Steffon nods imperceptibly) I'm so sorry, my son. (rubs his hands with hers) Are you hurt?

Steffon: Joffrey missed. But I felt I needed to end the confrontation quickly.

Cersei: (suddenly) You did well back there. (Looks at Steffon intently, focusing on his blue/green eyes, smiling) I'm proud of how you handled yourself. (Walks off suddenly and Steffon is startled as well as unsettled. Smiling painfully, he turns to go himself. Steffon walks back to his own tent expressionless but as he unfurls the flap to enter he jumps in surprise)

Steffon: How did you know I was sleeping here?

Arya: You shouldn't have lied. Joffrey was bullying Mycah and you know it! He wasn't protecting his betrothed's sister! And he attacked you with his sword and-

Steffon: (warningly) Keep your voice down.

Arya: I could go tell the King the truth. (Looks down angrily) Sansa won't, but I will. He wasn't trying to protect anybody.

Steffon: You would be doing me a disservice if you did. And in a strange sort of way he was.

Arya: How?

Steffon: Joffrey is engaged to your sister Sansa. (Arya rolls her eyes) Why do you think he did what he did today? He was trying to show off to her. It was basically his first time walking with her, or any girl really and he wanted to impress her.

Arya: (sarcastically) Didn't turn out too well for him did it?

Steffon: I know my brother to be deluded. He wanted Sansa to be impressed with his strength so he decided to hurt others to display it. It's not the first time he's preyed on smallfolk.

Arya: (incredulously) And he's expected to be King one day?

Steffon: (his eyes looking glassy and far off) Aye.

Arya: I'm going to tell my father the truth.

Steffon: No problem. (looking back at her) Remember Joffrey can handle being called stupid. What he can't handle is being considered cowardly or weak.

Arya: He is though.

Steffon: Yes, but (pausing) sometimes it's better to avoid antagonizing people if you can help it. Makes everything easier in life.

Arya: He insulted you.

Steffon: (matter-of-fact) And… he is either wrong, in which case it doesn't matter. Or he is right, which would be the day, in which case I might actually heed what he says.

Arya: I'm going to learn how to fight like that one day. To protect my friends.

Steffon: (smiling) And yourself. Remember always go for the jaw. When a mad dog can't bark it always runs away.

Arya: You were brave today. And thank you for standing up for Mycah.

Steffon: No problem. And if Joffrey ever mistreats you, I want you to come straight to me and I'll handle it.

Arya: I will.

Steffon: (Ushering her out of his tent) Now go before your father starts wondering where you are. Oh, and welcome to King's Landing. (Arya exits the tent and Steffon drops in his chair exhausted before pulling out a small flask of wine)


	5. Chapter 5

(In the small council chamber. A plain room furnished with only candles, and wooden drawers and desks line the perimeter. There is one large window immediately adjacent to a sprawling antique table with many straight-backed chairs drawn up to it. Sat together side by side are Varys, Baelish, Pycelle, Renly all of whom are talking amongst themselves. They look up expectantly and rise as the heavy bronze doors creak open and in marches Ned Stark followed by Steffon.)

Varys: (bowing low and simpering) Ah my Lord Hand, I have been looking forward to meeting you in person and wish to convey a warm welcome on behalf of all of us.

Ned Stark: (uncertain, taking his proffered hand) Thank you Lord Varys I look forward to working with you as well.

Baelish: (confidently) And you Lord Stark, I've also been looking forward to our meeting. I am sure your lady wife has mentioned me in the passing.

Ned: (genially) She has Lord Baelish. I understand that you knew her whilst growing up.

Baelish: (smiling) I was fostered at Riverrun yes. And I have also had the pleasure of knowing your brother Brandon. Last time we met-

Renly: As touching as all these reunions must be- I'm afraid I must ask (gesturing at Steffon)

Steffon: Ah, father must have forgotten to mention. I'm sure he'll issue it sometime but he's appointed me to the small council to represent him. (Varys and Baelish exchange looks)

Renly: To represent Robert?

Steffon: Where's Stannis?

Renly: (shrugging) Still at Dragonstone I suppose. Hasn't come back since Jon Arryn's funeral.

Ned: (shakes hands warmly with Renly) Has he given a reason for his extended leave of absence?

Renly: Not that I'm aware of.

Ned: I will write to him as soon as possible then. (Grand Maester Pycelle makes an emphasis in clearing his throat and Ned notices him for the first time still stooped in his chair) (Ned nods respectfully) Grand Maester Pycelle.

Pycelle: Yes… (dips his neck) (in a slow, laboured manner of speech) It has been a very… long time. (Ned gestures that they should sit, Steffon is to Ned's immediate right, followed by Baelish and Varys. To his left is Pycelle and then Renly) Oh yes. I almost forgot, apologies my Lord. The infirmities of age. (extends a scroll shakily, Ned takes it and unfurls)

Ned: (reading quickly) In light of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King, I Robert of the House Baratheon First of my Name King of the Andals and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do hereby name my second son Prince Steffon of the House Baratheon to the small council. In honour of these appointments I do command that a tourney be held in two week's time.

Baelish: (smirking) Mmm and how much does it ask for?

Ned: (reluctantly) Forty thousand gold dragons to the winner of the joust, twenty to the runner up and twenty to the winning archer.

Baelish: (callously) So another eighty thousand to top off 6 million then. I'm sure Lord Tywin would oblige.

Steffon: (before Ned can speak) Yes I'm afraid my father is a spendthrift. He doesn't seem to be able to control himself. (Baelish smirks again) (As Ned stares open-mouthed) I don't think you'll be able to talk him out of this one, after all a Hand is only appointed once in a long time while on his last nameday he gave out twice that in prize money, not to mention the cost of the banquet and entertainment.

Ned: (finding his voice and blurting) How could you have let this happen? I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed the finances of the realm to be reduced to such a state.

Steffon: At the very least we should charge a fee of a gold dragon per competitor in the jousts, and a silver stag for the archery competition. That way we could raise over twenty thousand gold and it would not seriously impact the number of participants.

Baelish: A workable idea my prince, but unconventional. Knights are simply not used to the idea of paying to enter a tourney. And under such a policy hedge knights would be unable to compete, for glory of course.

Steffon: (looking at Baelish) And if every spectator were to pay a silver stag per day we could raise yet another ten thousand dragons.

Renly: (blithely) But Robert would not approve.

Ned: I must speak with him tomorrow. Until then this meeting is adjourned. (the others look up in surprise) (turning to Steffon and then addresses everyone) My lords, I will do my utmost to convince Robert on the urgent need to change course. Until then there is very little we may discuss further. (they all rise) (Baelish, Varys bow to Ned and Pycelle totters to the exit. Renly is the first out but Steffon lingers behind)

Steffon: (catching Ned's eye and bows slightly) My Lord Hand when you and your household are fully settled in the castle then we'll have more to talk about. (Ned nods and Steffon departs after the rest. Ned is left standing alone in the small council chamber in contemplation.)

(It is an airy late afternoon in the gardens surrounding the Red Keep as Steffon and Myrcella stroll in the shaded parts following the stone path that is surrounded by clipped hedges.)

Myrcella: I still can't believe you're in real politics now. I mean, I know you've talked about it before, but now you're really in the Small Council (hitches her breath), I mean it just doesn't sound…

Steffon: Believable? Convincing? I know what you mean, I'm having a difficult time convincing myself.

Myrcella: (questioningly) But what exactly spurred you on to this? Why now?

Steffon: Did mother tell you to ask me? (After an embarrassing silence, Myrcella nods blushing)

Myrcella: She's concerned about you. And I am as well.

Steffon: You needn't worry. This sort of thing doesn't have to be dangerous. But as to why, I mean, I'm growing up. There are a lot of things I want to contribute in, to make better and there's almost no other way and it's simply frustrating to sit aside and do nothing. Plus I'm fifteen and almost a man. Maybe you'll understand when you're older. But have you ever wanted to do anything in particular, that you see yourself doing in a few years?

Myrcella: (considers for a moment) I want to visit other places… (Steffon looks on bemusedly) and I want to go to the Citadel… Don't tell mother.

Steffon: Oh? And not to be a party pooper, but you do realize the Citadel only receives men?

Myrcella: (elbows him) Of course I know. But I want to study healing. It's so frustrating. All Maester Pycelle teaches me, probably the only things my mother allows him to teach me, are the really basic things you could probably work out by common sense. I want to study disease. Dissection. Surgery. Herbs and potions.

Steffon: (smiles broadly) Tell you what. In a few years when you're of age, and I'm even older (Myrcella laughs) and when Tommen is taller than you are now, we'll convince father to let us take a tour of the Free Cities. And it's a Lannister tradition, so we can be a part of it. We'll visit the Titan of Braavos, Long Bridge of Volantis, Three Bells of Norvos, Qohor, Lys (Myrcella's eyes begin to widen), Harrenhal, the mountains of the Eyrie, and the Wall. Oh yeah and Oldtown. You could cut your hair (Myrcella giggles and takes her brother in the arm), pose as an acolyte and sit in any class you want. I doubt anyone would notice you. Then we'll go on a spending spree and buy a half thousand books on healing, history, architecture, economics, military strategy, magic whatever and haul it all back, read it all. We could go for years even.

Myrcella: (teasingly as the smile wears off her face) Oh and what about your newfound responsibilities on the small council?

Steffon: (looking ahead seriously than back to his sister) Well… there are always messengers?

Myrcella: Messangers?

Steffon: Yes, hire people to deliver the news and keep you up to date. It could be possible (Myrcella shoots him a hopeful, mock puppy expression) that we could find time to do it in the not too distant future. (pauses) But there's plenty of work to do here yet.

(The scene is a crowded tavern in Flea Bottom and a hooded figure enters unnoticed. He has long blonde hair that reaches to his shoulders and his body is covered by a dusty travelling cloak. He nods to the waiting barman and quickly sweeps past not looking at anyone until he spots a pug-nosed boy with large round eyes and sandy coloured hair sitting three aisles away and makes for the table)

Fish: Good to see you again Stag. It's been far too long.

Stag: (after calling for a mug addresses him) Two months, the longest I've been away. How have things been going in my absence?

Fish: Things are normal, nothing has changed for the moment. But I'm guessing you called me here today to update us all on the arrivals.

Stag: (nods expressionless) Yes, the Starks have finally arrived and that means some changes, a new focus, a new strategy.

Fish: May I tell everyone what I will have been told today?

Stag: All but Wolf. I don't yet entirely trust him. But it's vital that Boar knows, I'll leave that to myself. But you'll have to tell Dragon. And tell Dragon to tell Kraken, Lion and so on.

Fish: Understood. And I'm all ears.

Stag: The most important thing is that the contingency plans I made with Dragon are in place and ready to go on a moment's notice. Is it done? Have all the targets been identified?

Fish: Dragon assures me it is done.

Stag: I'll be visiting him later as well. I need to fix some armour and buy a quiver of arrows. I'll also need to tell him exactly where he will lead them all, and himself. They'll be escaping by boat to Pentos. If it happens that is.

Fish: And what of my operations?

Stag: Which establishments have you infiltrated?

Fish: Five, the most high-profile ones.

Stag: It's a start. Now with the Starks in town, tell the ladies to keep an ear for that. Among the City Watch we might uncover their plans even before they've started putting them into action. Lannister soldiers as well. Oh yes, I almost forgot I'm running low on funds so I'll have to give another box-load of dragonbone to Wolf.

Fish: (lowers voice) You don't trust Wolf yet you allow him to handle the dragonbone?

Stag: The thing is I trust Wolf with money, especially when I'm watching him, but I don't trust him with secrets. I pay him well and he's big and manly enough to haggle with the merchants, especially since he's a pretty well-known sellsword. (smiles) No offence, if you tried they just wouldn't take you seriously.

Fish: I suppose you're right. And what will you have Boar do?

Stag: As much as I can get him to do, which isn't a lot to put it mildly. (Fish chuckles) I'll have him place extra watch for poisons in the kitchens, he knows how to identify most of them, and he'll have to take a more active role in running the network. I would never send him in the tunnels though (Fish laughs) And he's risen quite high you know, he's now vice-chief baker and Baelish has approached him.

Fish: Has he?

Stag: I deliberated whether or not to install him as a double spy but I figured he might be a liability and screw up. But I know Boar won't betray me. Not for a mountain of venison.

Fish: But since he declined Baelish isn't his cover essentially blown?

Stag: Well hopefully he will deem him insignificant enough to pass over, and it actually helps that he doesn't seem to be cut for this line of work. So he may just convince him to be entirely above suspicion. But I do not think he was approached because Baelish got a wind of what he was, but rather it was a pretty standard offer for any new high-flying servant.

Fish: (suddenly) My mug is empty and I think it's time for us to part.

Stag: I think so too. (embraces him) Say hello to the rest for me. I'll try to come and visit… like the old times.

Fish: (echoing) Like old times. (They toast each other and Fish gets up to leave immediately afterwards. Stag sits by himself for a while, drumming his fingers and finishing his drink. Then he too gets up swiftly to exit, leaving behind an empty table which is quickly filled after him)

(Steffon is outside the Hand's designated quarters and after a minute is received and the two Stark guards bow and allow him entrance. Ned is at his desk looking troubled with his elbows on the table and his fingers interlocked, he stares ahead into space. Steffon approaches him, indicates one of the chairs opposite and Ned nods, he sits down)

Ned: (smiling ruefully) Well, Prince Steffon, I must say you were right about some things. Having come here, I find myself uncertain as to what to do and I could certainly use your advice.

Steffon: I'm guessing you had that talk with Robert

Ned: Yes and he…

Steffon: Did not listen much to what you had to say and just told you to get on with it and to not bother him about official matters unless they were of dire importance.

Ned: (stares back at him slightly in awe)… Yes, that is basically what he said.

Steffon: (sighs slightly) I never said my father would be receptive, even to good sense and judgement, he seems strangely immune to it all, even from his closest friends. He may have had more patience listening to you, if he were sober, but he almost never is nowadays.

Ned: He wasn't always like this. He was… better once.

Steffon: Before I was born? Before he married my mother? Or before he won the Rebellion?

Ned: He is your father and we are going to help him.

Steffon: I never said we weren't. I know he needs help, and I know he's hardly the perfect monarch, but that doesn't mean he's not worth helping. But as my father may have impressed upon you at the Cross-roads when one person tells him one thing, another another thing, he simply isn't able to tell the difference, and he doesn't much care.

(There is silence between them as each considers the other. Finally Steffon speaks)

Steffon: This is my first visit, the first of many that will follow in what I hope will become a fruitful and productive partnership. We both share rather similar goals. There are a few preliminary things I have to cover with you first, what you honestly must know, fundamentally, to be able to function here. I don't think anyone else would just tell you. I alluded to them in my letter.

Ned: Tell me about them.

Steffon: (bends in closer) The castle has many secret passageways that allows for easy spying. Treat it as if you are being watched every moment by somebody. If you don't want anyone to hear something keep your voice down even when you seem to be alone. You should not venture in it yourself because you may be recognized. Most people employ children, orphans to spy for them because no one knows who they are.

Ned: Baelish warned me about such spies. Apparently the Queen, himself, and Varys employ a great number.

Steffon: That is an understatement. Varys has more little birds in this world than you have men in your army. Renly has some. I have a few. Many I'm sure work for several sides, it is unknown even to themselves where their true loyalties lie.

Ned: So what you're telling me, is that there are hundreds of children, servants running around the castle, in addition to their daily duties they try to overhear as much as possible and they sell their information to whoever is willing to pay them?

Steffon: Precisely. It's an entire industry. Do you have men you trust? Men whose loyalty to you would never be suspect.

Ned: Of course.

Steffon: Good because that is the next thing I want to talk to you about. Everyone who plays this sort of game needs men that they can trust implicitly. Without question. Subordinates. Without them, you cannot compete. There are several ways players find such people. Baelish uses coin. Varys flatters and gives care and attention to unwanted, wayward orphans of a suitable tender age.

Ned: (interrupting) What about you?

Steffon: I have my ways as well. The point is, the people you trust I take it, are your soldiers, the captains in your army, whose loyalty you maintain due to the oaths they have sworn you, as well as the shared Northern customs that bind you against the South.

Ned: You could put it that way.

Steffon: (pausing) Make alliances Lord Stark. With those outside of that circle. With foreigners, whose foreign customs you do not understand, even think contemptuous perhaps. This is not a matter of what you like or dislike, but rather what proves useful and necessary. Your men are loyal and valuable, that is not doubted, but they are of little use to you in a place where they do not understand and find alien themselves.

Ned: You also spoke to me further in your letter, warning me about your brother.

Steffon: After that performance in the tent, did your daughter Arya not speak to you?

Ned: Aye she did. She was angry with him.

Steffon: My brother is a scatterbrain. Can't you tell? Cursed by the gods if there be any. All my life I suspect I'll be trying to wipe his messes and clean up after his mistakes. But more than that, he is of a vicious nature. As your daughter is betrothed to him, I feel it is my duty to warn you.

Ned: But I thought you wanted Stark and Lannister to be reconciled? What better way than through marriage?

Steffon: (considering) The fact of the matter however, is that only workable marriages produce good alliances. Your daughter is sweet, romantic and naive, wholly unsuited for Joffrey. I predict he will mistreat her after he loses interest in her, and decides to use her for his whims. And that will bring your two Houses to discord rather than friendship.

Ned: But I have already promised the King…

Steffon: (shakes his head) I also don't think it can be undone, but I am warning you nevertheless. If I speak to father he will take it as my attempt to steal the bride for myself. If we go together however…

Ned: Do you have an alternative in mind?

Steffon: Tommen and Arya. They are alike in spirit and personality. It's too early to tell but they could prove to be a good match. But if not… (pauses) If a King should be driven to act solely by his desires and whims then we are all doomed in the long run. The same goes for you lords who sometimes must forego their desires and indignations. I beg you, if my brother mistreats your daughter, don't do anything rash, bring the matter to Robert and he will restrain his son. As will my mother. They are still capable of that yet.

Ned: (pauses and looks uneasy and angry) If your brother should mistreat my daughter…

Steffon: Use the abuse as a pretext to break the betrothal. That way you will not offend my father.

Ned: (nods but still looks uncertain)

Steffon: (continuing) The next thing I ought to talk to you about is the small council members, what I truly think of them and what they seem to me like. The things I have observed.

Ned: (snorts and speaks roughly) I've been wondering about that too.

Steffon: I'll get straight to the point. My conclusions. Baelish is a ruthless, self-serving, ambitious fellow, who is loyal to only himself, you should trust him only when your interests and his happen to align. All alliances for him are temporary and based on convenience. Varys on the other hand cares nothing about himself but is probably a Targaryen sympathizer as he believes their dynasty to be worth resurrecting for the good of the realm. Pycelle is a Lannister loyalist through and through but is generally too cowardly to attempt anything himself. He's my mother's stand-in on the council. (Ned's eyes widen at these revelations) Renly is close to the Tyrells and has connections with the Reach in addition to being a Lord Paramount. However he is cowed by my father who watches him more closely than the rest as he is kin. In the end Baelish by far is the most dangerous as he has no loyalties and is apt to play every side off one another for his maximum benefit. I'll give you a light example.

Ned: (looking overwhelmed and then speaking gruffly) You had better.

Steffon: Baelish feeds my mother with information and he feeds my father with gold dragons. Therefore he has the protection of both Baratheons and Lannisters. He tells my mother of all my father's infidelities and where his various bastard children are, as far as he knows. Then he tells my father of my mother's extravagant spending and habits. Then they have a row, and neither of them knows why or even considers how the other got his or her information. Then Baelish is rewarded by my father for his fine service, and by my mother for his fine service. Both regard him as their man. The truth is he is his own man.

Ned: But if Varys is a Targaryen sympathizer why does Robert allow him on the council?

Steffon: He actually served the Mad King, did you know that?

Ned: I had heard. But that doesn't make him a Targaryen sympathizer.

Steffon: No… but he has extensive contacts in the Free Cities, including the well-known Magister Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos, who is a well-known sympathizer. Varys even told my father about how he housed the Targaryens under his roof.

Ned: But no one knows of his connection with him?

Steffon: People know but Varys can plausibly deny them. After all he is the one who told Robert in the first place that Illyrio was helping them. Who's going to doubt a man that provides such extensive and detailed vital intelligence?

Ned: (crossing his arms) So now you've told me about them. Now I know but what are we going to do about them?

Steffon: This realm is poorly managed, that is beyond doubt but we cannot change that overnight as we do not have the sufficient power. All the other actors, Varys, Baelish especially, my mother are very powerful indeed. They have everything the City Watch, they control the revenues, the only thing that you have is the King's backing. But a King that is so removed from these things means for very little.

Ned: (with a rather grim, worn look) Could we bring Robert in then?

Steffon: We can try. That would be the ideal solution for us, but remember others have tried and failed. I was told by my father to help you in anyway I can. In doing so, I hope to help him. Having a prince to back you up can be useful, not quite as useful as having a King but there is much we can accomplish together. (speaking rapidly) Remember every action has a consequence. To be good at this is equivalent to being able to predict the consequences of any course of action, before you've performed it, and therefore work with possibilities hanging over your every move, and others' moves. There is an informal balance of power and I suggest you do not try to upset it without consulting me or discreetly testing the other parties. Renly and Stannis do not get along, the Baratheons are split and fragmented, my father absent, this has allowed the Lannisters to press the advantage. And as I said the Arryns used to be a force but now Jon is dead, the party is fled.

Steffon: (Ned is silent and he continues) Oh yes and do not reveal what you know to others lightly. What I'm doing right now speaking honestly with you is inadvisable. But since you're new to this completely I know I have little to fear. Say as little as possible. The art of conversation is to trim your sentences, speak carefully, precisely, with as few words as possible, giving away as little as possible, in such a way that allows for varied interpretation. It's kind of a minimalistic approach. And People are complicated. People have agendas. You can't always count on things being as they seem.

(Ned rises to usher him out. Steffon looks him in the eye once before sweeping his gaze around the surroundings of the room and turning to the door. Outside, Steffon walks rapidly away from the Tower of the Hand until he has reached a comparatively neutral corridor of the Red Keep.)


	6. Chapter 6

3708

(Stag is walking up the Street of Steel counting the smiths until he reaches the thirteenth and knocks on the open-air counter. There is a heavy hammering sound from the inside as Dragon is hard at work and the hot air makes its way to Stag who wrinkles his face in response. At last he gives a great shout over the din.)

Stag: Dragon! It's me. Stag!

Dragon: Do I have to call you that? And you look ridiculous you know. (approaching the counter)

Stag: (retorts) Only cause you know how I actually look. How've you been doing? Business a bit slow lately? And where's your master?

Dragon: You know this is his lunch hour, which is why you only come at this time.

Stag: Fair point. Anyway I'll make this quick since you seem quite busy at work. I've changed my mind about the plans I made with you. Have you scouted the 15 that I asked you to?

Dragon: Lion and Kraken helped me, but yes we did.

Stag: And they looked like expected?

Dragon: (shrugging) Pretty much. I could notice the similarity.

Stag: I owe the eunuch a favour then. (whispers softly) They are our kin. Whether you know them or not. I have decided to put the operation into commencement. Every week you will approach one brother or sister and offer them a ship's ride to Pentos and a new life never to return, and pay them handsomely. They should accept. If they refuse you, move on to the next one. Hopefully within a few months, the majority will be out of the city.

Dragon: No more than one per week?

Stag: Any more and it'll give the game away.

Dragon: And what about me?

Stag: That's the dangerous part. You'll be the last to leave if anything should happen. But you're capable and I've given you prior warning unlike the rest. That captain you always see frequenting the fifth dock, he's mine. If you need to get out, he's your exit point.

Dragon: Understood. (Looking up at Stag) And thanks. Look I can't really speak for the others. But thanks for giving us a chance.

Stag: I did offer you full-time work once, but I understand you chose to remain as a smith.

Dragon: It's what I like to do. (eyes the bull-shaped helmet placed at the side)

Stag: You're an artist that's what you are.

Dragon: (grinning in disbelief and eyes his blackened fingers) No, not me.

Stag: You enjoy making these things. It makes you feel good, establishes who you are. That's what art is no matter the form.

Dragon: (doubtfully) If you say so.

Stag: Meanwhile, I would like to buy a quiver of arrows please. And (handing it over) have this piece of mail repaired. (he drops twice the price in coin on the counter and departs) When can I expect it done?

Dragon: Come back in a week.

(Steffon is eating dinner in Cersei's quarters, Myrcella and Tommen are to his right and the conversation is quiet, candelabras are lit, and the atmosphere is dim and perfumed. The windows to the back of the ornate table and cloth are open and a light cool breeze sweeps into the room every once in a while. Their tables and chairs are placed upon finely woven carpets, they are eating upon silver plates, the food and drink served up in a golden platters and goblets. Cersei smiles slightly as she watchers her children eat silently but then breaks the comparative silence to address Steffon.)

Cersei: You met with Lord Stark the other day. What did you two have to talk about?

Steffon: Oh? I hadn't thought you would notice mother. To be truthful, I was personally welcoming him to King's Landing, making sure he knows his way around the castle, asking him about a few small council matters, making a few suggestions…

Cersei: (eyeing him tentatively. Then she turns to her other children when they have nearly finished the meal) Leave us, darlings. It's nearly time for your baths and I need to speak with Steffon on a few matters. (Myrcella and Tommen are escorted obediently out by a couple of handmaidens, Myrcella stops to give Steffon a significant glance for a few seconds)

Steffon: (relaxed) Alright mother, I'm all ears.

Cersei: (surveying Steffon intently their eyes of a similar shape and shade meeting) Why are you helping Lord Stark? What do you intend to achieve with his cooperation?

Steffon: Ultimately it's for the benefit of us-

Cersei: (sarcastic) -For the benefit of us. Oh surely. My son, I'm not even certain you know what that means yet. (breaks out suddenly passionately after a pause) The Starks are not your family. I am your mother, Tommen and Myrcella and Joffrey are your siblings. Robert is your father. Lord Stark is no one for you or me.

Steffon: (slowly) But Lord Stark is a friend of my father's and I am my father's son.

Cersei: (adamantly) But he's not one of us. (Gets up suddenly and embraces Steffon who reluctantly returns it and holds Steffon's cheek in her hands to survey his face and eyes) You need to be loyal to your family Steffon. We are who you can truly trust, depend upon in times of trouble. No one else. Nothing is stronger than family. Your family. (emphasis) That's who you are.

Steffon: (looking up at her still sitting steadfastly) I agree. (She draws away from him now and reaches for a glass of wine) But the Starks are in the capital, Ned Stark doesn't know a thing about politics (Cersei snorts while drinking and almost hiccups) and I am afraid of discord between our houses. That is my sole motivation, nothing more.

Cersei: (looking up with one eye from her glass of wine) And if it should come to conflict? Who would you stand with then?

Steffon: As I said, if I work with him we can reach an understanding.

Cersei: (in a cheerful tone to mask) You haven't answered my question my darling. (pauses) My son. If it comes to conflict, who will you support?

Steffon: (smoothly) Why my family of course. My mother and my father. My siblings.

Cersei: (surveying him again fully with a pause) That is good to hear. I know you will always remember who you are. You have always been affectionate with Myrcella… and Tommen. (looks down distressed then with a shaky laugh) And I know I haven't been the finest of mothers but you have always made me proud my son. (touches his face again tenderly) So capable, strong… and intelligent. And I know all sons outgrow their mothers, but you especially have flown fast.

Steffon: Myrcella too. She's far too intelligent for her station in life. You of all people should know how that feels. Why not let her go to the Citadel for a tenure of time?

Cersei: (freezes, then pauses and checks herself before addressing Steffon sweetly) It's getting late my love. We'll think more on this later when she's much older but I can hardly imagine sending her away such a distance to Oldtown. Away from her home and her mother. You have always been strong and courageous my son, but Myrcella… she would be heartbroken if she undertook such an ordeal, no matter what she might say or imagine now.

Steffon: (nods his head) I understand. The decision of course, rests with you mother. I just wanted to convey Myrcella's true feelings about the matter to you.

Cersei: (smiles gracefully as her eyes wander past Steffon to the outline of the room) Myrcella is very lucky to have such a caring older brother like yourself. (Steffon raises his eyebrows slightly) And Tommen as well. Someone he can look up to. Thank you for sharing Myrcella's thoughts with me.

Steffon: (nods his head) Yes sometimes it is better to let others express how you feel because you can be unsure of how to go about doing it yourself. I too am grateful that Myrcella has been able to communicate my feelings on the matter to you mother. (Cersei flashes him a sudden piercing look)

Cersei: Oh well! (sighing) As I said it's getting late and your father will be expecting me. We'll have to talk again later when we next have the time to meet and arrange something. Did you enjoy the evening?

Steffon: (grins) You always know to employ the best chefs. The food was the best I've tasted in some time.

Cersei: (smiling back) Well I certainly do have my taste, you can say. Good night Steffon (plants a quick kiss on his forehead and holds him for a moment before turning and departing. Steffon too gets up quickly and paces down the corridor. Some safe distance away, he snorts derisively. Once.)

(Steffon is in Robert's quarters sitting face to face with his father in a mahogany chair with a marble desk in between them. Ser Barristan stands behind Robert in his white armour looking listlessly from side to side)

Steffon: You called for me father?

Robert: (surveying him with an intense stare) I wanted to get a good look at you, and how fast you've grown. (turning to Ser Barristan chortling) Gods doesn't he look like I once did in my prime Barristan?

Ser Barristan: (firmly) Yes he does your grace. There's more than a marked resemblance.

Robert: Seven hells. (Stares at Steffon again) When I look at you boy, I see myself fit and strong, wearing my yellow black armour storming castles, leading armies, swinging war-hammers. (Takes another drink from his goblet) What do you think about all that boy?

Steffon: I wield swords father. And though I may not look it, I'm an inexperienced warrior, never fought in a war, never killed anyone, never even had a command.

Robert: (eyeing him from his goblet) You will soon, I promise you. You were born for it, you have my strength. (pauses) As soon as you pass your sixteenth nameday I'm making you Lord of the Stormlands.

Steffon: (expressionless) But Uncle Renly is Lord of Storm's End father.

Robert: A title I gave him. (Raises his goblet and Steffon takes his reluctantly and sips) When I tell him to hand it over, he will. (reaches inside his pocket and withdraws a scroll of parchment) I have it already written down. Count it as an early nameday present from your father.

Steffon: (nods appreciatively) I am honoured. But will you be informing him beforehand or until my nameday?

Robert: (waves his hand dismissively) It can wait. We're in no hurry. Just letting you know ahead of time. (patting Steffon's shoulder) Anyway, tell me about Ned. How's he doing first two weeks on the job?

Steffon: (hesitantly) Not well, father. He's come to me for advice of course, but his authority is, to put it mildly, non-existent. He's surrounded by flatterers and the powerful, while being a newcomer, he is quite powerless to do anything. You should talk to him father. He needs you. He can't do this with you absent. And Uncle Stannis whom I'd imagine would be of some help is still absent. Lord Stark has tried to write to him but with no response. Perhaps if it came from you…

Robert: (impatiently) Let Stannis stay in Dragonstone if that's what he wants. And if those fools on the Small council should think to conspire against the Crown…

Steffon: It's not like that. Put it this way, they will look to aid Lord Stark only when it is advantageous for them, and not merely when it is good for the realm. They will be passive, act only when they have to, but be careful not to break any laws…

Robert: (grunts, then looking at Steffon with some regret) You should have been my firstborn. The realm would be better off. I'd be a whole lot more at ease with everything if it were the case. (Proudly) My son. My line should go on… (looks straight at Steffon) through you. But I can't, you understand? I am the King but there are limits to what I can do. Even I know that myself. I can't just… subvert the line of succession…

Steffon: I understand father. But to be honest, I've never wanted the Crown myself. It's a heavy burden, a massive responsibility…

Robert: (sighs deeply staring into space) You know we're more alike than you let on Steffon. Even if it doesn't seem to be on the surface…

(Jaime Lannister suddenly enters the room and upon seeing the three makes to leave again. Ser Barristan catches him midway and the two men make a ceremonial switch of guard.)

Robert: Alright boy. I'm done with you. Off you go.

Steffon: (looking at Ser Barristan) Ready for practice?

Ser Barristan: (fingers the hilt of his sword then glances back at Robert who is looking resignedly at Jaime's back) Aye. Let's go my prince.

(At the practice yard Ser Barristan and Steffon are gazing at each other intently with drawn practice blades. Ser Barristan then calmly begins to advance. Steffon matches his movement and they continue to stare at each other intently scanning for openings. Ser Barristan throws a feint and Steffon nearly falls for it, holding back at the last second and manages to deftly parry Ser Barristan's thrust)

Ser Barristan: Good! Watch your step. (turns swiftly and begins a combination of attacks that Steffon manages to avoid. Ser Barristan's attacks grow ever swifter and powerful but Steffon just manages to keep up and jabs threateningly in return)

Steffon: (panting) You know, Ser Barristan, talking and fighting is more difficult than you let on. But you said it helps train one's concentration.

Ser Barristan: (winded also as the two exchange heavy blows) That it does my prince. I've always found it to be a useful exercise. (narrowly avoids Steffon's counter strike) Just don't… don't do it in a real fight of course.

(Finally Ser Barristan slips through Steffon's guard and gives him a good blow to the ribs that floors him but he gets back up in an instant, retrieving his shield and taking a few more practice swings before rushing again towards Ser Barristan. The courtyard rings with a furious din for minutes until Steffon drives home a blow to Ser Barristan's armoured shoulder that forces him into retreat)

Ser Barristan: (looking proudly at Steffon) Much better and I've always said it. You possess that rare combination of strength with grace; swiftness and steadfastness that I've almost never seen.

Steffon: (grins) Except for yourself?

Ser Barristan: (smiling pleasantly) And one other actually. Your uncle Jaime Lannister. You're as gifted technically as him when he was your age, but physically you have your father's strength. That allows you to compete with full-grown men with ease. And by the time you reach full manhood, I truly think you'll be better than I ever was.

Steffon: (overwhelmed) You really think so?

Ser Barristan: (turning to look at Steffon's weapon leaning against a post) And you have a Valyrian steel sword. The whole court is whispering that it's Dark Sister and that you found it when no one else could. The Targaryens have searched for it in vain across many generations.

Steffon: (shrugs) Guess we'll never be entirely sure. It matches up to what the historical records say it should look like but no one's seen it for a hundred years and it's design is hardly unique.

Ser Barristan: (in jest as he wipes away sweat from his brow and sheathes his blade) So you ever think about joining the Kingsguard?

Steffon: (playing along) Like the great Aemon Dragonknight? Or your former colleague Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning?

Ser Barristan: (gesturing to the weapon again) Ser Aemon may have once wielded it.

Steffon: To be perfectly honest I once dreamed about the Kingsguard when I was about six years old. Not anymore though. My brother-

Ser Barristan: I understand. It's not a path that many would willingly walk. Princes above all-

Steffon: No it's not like that. It's just… I don't think I could ever become really good at guarding and protecting someone in that fashion. I get distracted quite easily. And to be be perfectly honest I wouldn't want to stay in my brother's presence all the time. (grinning) I don't think I could bear the ordeal.

Ser Barristan: (walks with Steffon across the yard where other men are practicing with their weapons. They reach the range where Steffon begins loosening arrows rapidly from 50 yards) Is that dragonbone?

Steffon: (concentrating on the targets) Yes I snuck it from the dungeons and had it made. Near where I found the sword to be honest. Don't tell my father.

Ser Barristan: (chuckling) I think he would approve actually. After all he's the one who ordered all their skulls and bones down there where he doesn't have to look at them.

Steffon: (suddenly turning to him) Ser Barristan, could I ask you for a personal favour?

Ser Barristan: (surprised) Well of course my prince. My duty is to serve your father and the royal family.

Steffon: (smiling) It's not quite like that. Since Lord Stark has come to the capital, things have been… a little tense in the small council. So I'm asking you for a favour. As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard you are in charge of your six other colleagues of the Kingsguard but I fear they may also be taking orders from those who do not have the King's interests at heart.

Ser Barristan: What makes you suspicious of the Kingsguard my prince?

Steffon: (looking earnestly at him) I know this may sound a bit alarming. But if anything should happen, if the Kingsguard, or certain members of the Kingsguard should receive orders, orders deliberately kept secret to be acted out, that also do not come directly from my father, and you become aware of such plans, could I have your promise that you will inform my father and I about such? Before those plans have been executed…

Ser Barristan: (looking confused) You have my word of course.

(Steffon is sitting at Ned's desk again in the evening, the two are engaged in a lengthy conversation)

Ned: (chortling) -And your father, when he wanted to annoy Lord Arryn he would jump and stamp over the closed moon door and howl-

Steffon: (smiling embarrassed) So he always spoke and acted like that then?

Ned: (bemusedly) Hasn't changed in that regard.

Steffon: I knew Jon well too. He taught me many things about the realm and he always made time to answer my many questions on administration. I learnt much from him. But my Lord, truthfully I don't think it was just for stories about my father and Lord Arryn that you called me up today?

Ned: (looking straight at Steffon) No. I met with Baelish earlier.

Steffon: Ah! Did he request a meeting or did you have reason to meet with him?

Ned: (takes a deep breath) I think Tyrion Lannister was the one who tried to murder my son. Just like you said, there was an assassination attempt on Bran two weeks after the Lannisters departed Winterfell.

Steffon: But why Tyrion? What evidence do you have that suggests he is responsible?

Ned: His dagger. The assassin was armed with it. (reaches in his desk and pull it out of the scabbard and lays it on the desk. Steffon picks it up and examines it to eye)

Steffon: (staring down its length with one eye surprised) Valyrian steel. But how did you know the dagger was owned by Tyrion Lannister? Did you see him carrying it?

Ned: Baelish said it was his before he lost it in a bet with Tyrion.

Steffon: (staring up at Ned) I see. Has Baelish been offering his help with your investigation?

Ned: He has. Now you told me not to trust the man so I come to you for judgement.

Steffon: (considering) Very well. Baelish may be telling the truth or he may be lying. My suggestion is that we wait for Tyrion to return to the capital before arresting and interrogating him with the help and approval of the King. If Baelish was truly telling the truth, he would not mind laying these accusations openly in front of Robert, but if he is lying he would not dare do so. That should be enough to determine whether he's telling the truth.

Ned: (surprised) That's good, but Baelish has already told me that his word alone is not good enough and that's why he is unwilling to speak to Robert about it.

Steffon: Not discreetly no. But in an open trial, surely he would not mind stepping forward with his accusation. If he is lying and trying to frame Tyrion and the Lannisters for some reason, which is entirely possible, then he would not dare do so in front of the Lannisters, supposing that they are in fact innocent and uninvolved. The Lannisters would then know that he is trying to frame them. If they were involved and Baelish is not lying, by not providing testimony, he would be obstructing justice and aiding the Lannisters, which would not make sense if he were on your side as he is the one who put forward the accusation against them. In a formal trial, his testimony would be as good as any if he is indeed on your side, so it would be quite telling if he refuses.

Ned: (thinking) I see your reasoning in this. So we allow him to come to King's Landing?

Steffon: (nodding) And then bring him before my father. Then we will have a trial. Speaking personally about this though, I do not think that Tyrion made an attempt on your son's life. Knowing him myself I can vouch for his character, and he seems like an unlikely candidate, he is not as close with the other Lannisters as you might think so I do not think he is involved in their intrigues. Continue to investigate with Baelish though but be wary of what he says and do not take his word for granted.


	7. Chapter 7

(Steffon, Robert, Varys, Baelish, Renly and Pycelle are gathered in the small council chamber, deep in discussion, Robert looks furious at everyone, Baelish is smiling confidently with a twinkle in his eye, Varys is deferential, Renly looks indifferent and bemused. Steffon is expressionless and sitting completely still. As Ned Stark arrives and marches towards them, Robert stands and berates him)

Robert: (in a deadly, threatening tone, jabbing his finger out at Ned) I told you this would happen and you wouldn't listen, to me or anyone else. Now that the Targaryen bitch is with child how long do you think it'll take for the Dothraki to march on the Seven Kingdoms?

Ned: (reaching the table, troubled) You cannot mean it Robert.

Robert: (angrily) I do and I will! We should have done it years ago! Her and that great fool Viserys, I won't rest till every Targaryen is dead and rotting in the ground. The longer this farce carries on, the greater their threat to the realm. (turning to the councillors gesturing wildly) You're my council, counsel! Knock some sense into this honourable fool!

Varys: (shrugging) Perhaps for the greater good of the realm we must consider this vile course of action. How many thousands will perish if the Targaryens bring the realm back into civil war?

Pycelle: (stuttering and deliberately) I-I agree. S-sometimes, the greatest a-among us must make d-difficult decisions-

Baelish: (mirth) When you find yourself in bed with an ugly wom-

Steffon: (cutting him off) I wonder father why you would consider Danaerys Targaryen, a child to be the greater threat.

Robert: (rounding on his son) She's a Targaryen! Do I have to explain to you of all people what that means?

Steffon: (smoothly) And the Dothraki care not for rules or custom. If you murder Danaerys Targaryen, Khal Drogo would still invade to avenge his bride. In fact he would stop at nothing to do so. It does not matter to the Dothraki if they have no claim to press.

Robert: (heatedly) But it means that the houses wouldn't flock to the old dragon banner-

Steffon: Imagine this father. Suppose a Dothraki horde a hundred thousand strong lands in Westeros. It matters not whether Danaerys is alive, they will overrun the country. If you murder Danaerys, Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos would still provide the ships for Khal Drogo to press Visery's claim.

Robert: (desperate) So kill them both then!

Steffon: Kill Khal Drogo. No Khal, the horde scatters, danger is averted. Or rather kill him when we are certain that he is preparing for invasion and not before. There are no indications thus far as Varys has informed us that the Khal is considering a march towards Westeros.

Ned: (quickly) I agree with Steffon. If you must kill someone, kill the Khal who leads the army. And then only if he marches on Westeros.

Steffon: (as Robert is beginning to think) It wouldn't be too late to wait till then. If we were to send an assassin now and we botch it, that would anger the Khal and increase the chance that he might consider Westeros.

Robert: (calmer) Very well then. (turning to Varys) I want you to increase the number of spies we have near Drogo. Any sign of invasion we'll kill him first. (Varys bows obsequiously) (Robert gets up and marches away to the doors, then turns and surveys the council again somewhat placated, before departing)

(The council continues with other affairs of state for two hours with no more interruptions until the noon break as they all arise, Steffon turns to Renly.)

Steffon: (quietly) Uncle could I have a word? (Renly turns surprised then nods) (The two of them linger until the room is emptied and then they sit down again)

Steffon: I'll cut straight to the point. I come asking for an alliance against the Lannisters. (Renly gives Steffon a calculated look then sips from his goblet)

Renly: Against the Lannisters? What did you have in mind particularly? And who else are you already allied with?

Steffon: I have an agreement with the Hand. Nothing drastic if that is what you fear. But the Lannisters are the dominant force in the capital as of now and I feel it is time to bring them down a notch for the sake of my father, your brother. If we were to unite against them, plus Stannis we would be large enough to oppose them on many things. Start to push back. After all it's never good for one party to have so much sway at court. That, even I know.

Renly: (considering) And what do I get in return if I happen to agree to your terms?

Steffon: As a gesture of good faith I'll provide you with this vital piece of intelligence from your perspective. On my sixteenth nameday my father plans to revoke your title and give it to me.

Renly: (expressionless) So how would I be of any help to you in the future?

Steffon: You have connections with the Reach that I do not. Here's my offer to you then. As House Baratheon cannot survive such disunity, I'd be happy to let you keep Storm's End if you are willing to work with me. I make no promises, but I believe I may be able to convince Robert.

Renly: (amused) So a promise of a promise is all I get in return?

Steffon: Think of it this way. If I manage to convince Robert, and I will try, you keep Storm's End and ally with me. If I fail, I take Storm's End but under our alliance you would be under my protection at court.

Renly: Agreed.

Steffon: Good. With your men at court, Stannis' men when he returns and Stark men, even if the Lannisters wanted to move against us, it would be far more troublesome for them. I know you would fight for Robert anyways, but I felt like I needed to formalize the alliance between Stark and Baratheon so we know to defend each other against any threat. We need to have an effective deterrence against the Lannisters or there'll blood shed as soon as it is opportune for them.

Renly: I understand. And you needn't worry nephew, if the Lannisters should attack any party of this alliance we will defend each other.

(Stag is standing outside an orphanage in the poorest section of Flea Bottom carrying a large basket, the mud is ankle deep at every step and bucket loads of refuse are dumped into the street from overhead in regular fashion. A few minutes later Fish joins him and they approach the door of the orphanage, a squat and grim tiled building and knock twice on the heavily stained wood. A shutter opens and a pair of small eyes stares out at them before the door is unbolted and the pair are allowed entrance.)

Stag: Kraken. (shakes hands with the curly-haired boy) It's been some time. Where is everyone?

Fish: Over half of them are still on their duties but I could have the rest assemble in the courtyard.

Stag: Please do. I need to speak with everyone briefly.

Kraken: Have you brought more treats for us? Rooster needs a new pair of shoes, and Bull has outgrown his pants.

Stag: (smiling at him) That I have, not to worry. (Pats the basket and Kraken's eyes widen) I brought as much as I can, melons, apples, oranges, carrots, turnips, onions, a few slabs of pork, some salted fish. Toys. (Kraken's eyes widen) It's not as much as you all deserve. You do so much work for me and I have quite little to offer in return.

(A small band of children have gathered in the courtyard, most look reasonably healthy and well-fed and dressed, happily playing with a ball or string or wooden figures. Fish rejoins Stag's side as he addresses him)

Stag: (to Fish whispering) How are the lessons going then?

Fish: (reciting) Lion, Kraken, Peacock, Bear, Stallion, Eagle can read and write perfectly. Mermaid, Seahorse, Rooster, Ox, Bull, Fox, Bee, Giant, Lizard can read pretty well but are still learning to write. Raven, Serpent are too small to learn yet. Nightingale, Swan, Turtle, Crane, Hawk, Salmon are just beginning to learn.

Stag: Fine progress.

Fish: I have urgent news for you as well. From the brothels. I will wait until you're finished.

Stag: (turns back to the gaggle of children in a bright tone) I am so happy to see you all again. (the children begin to rush towards him chortling and speaking rapidly and Stag laughs and takes a few in arm and ruffles their hair) I know I don't come nearly often enough but I try to make up for it when I do.

Bee: What did you bring us this time? (Stag uncovers the flap on the basket and most of them gasp)

Peacock: (approaching the basket) I don't think I've seen so much fruit ever in my life.

Stag: Fish will hand out the spoils as always. Remember he's in charge of you all really, I just come and visit once in a while to contribute what I can. Remember, be good and don't fight with one another. I know Boar's been to visit a few days back delivering bread.

Giant: He has. And ever since you and Fish have started this orphanage and taken us in a year ago- (humbly) So I want to thank both of you on behalf of all of us. You've given us a roof and decent food and clothes and you're teaching us to read and write.

Stag: (looking at Giant directly) Thank you that was well said. I want to do all I can to ease the suffering of unwanted children in this city that I've also grown up in, so by all means continue to find anyone who has nowhere to go and is willing to do a bit of work in the dark.

Ox: We will. (Many chorus yes)

Stag: (turning to Fish) Excuse me all for a moment.

(Stag and Fish walk away from the courtyard to the back where the small kitchens are located, and inside the dark interior they sit on stools and a three-legged table)

Stag: Can't give them too much you understand, or people will talk.

Fish: Of the lot, how many do you think also work for Varys?

Stag: (considers) Maybe one or two. But it matters not at the moment.

Fish: I never understood, the business with the bastards, why didn't you just inform the King about them to assure their safety?

Stag: When a man has many sons, it increases his own sense of self-importance. He simply might not care about them. And telling my father would mean revealing to the world and my mother where they are. Anyway what was it that you learned from the brothels?

Fish: Tyrion Lannister has been kidnapped by Lady Stark returning to King's Landing. Lannister soldiers are planning to ambush Lord Stark in retribution for the kidnapping.

Stag: (turns rapidly to look at Fish) You are certain?

Fish: Three times the story was heard and reported by independent sources across two brothels. We have not heard where he is being held or taken though.

Stag: I need to go then. Urgent business. Tell everyone I'm sorry that I couldn't stay for supper and that I'll visit again soon.

(Wolf is standing by the quays of King's Landing whistling a merry tune while the Red Keep casts an ugly shadow over the brown-coloured water and merchant ships coming and going. Wolf is a middle-aged sellsword, half-shaven with a lean but powerful build. He wears leather armour, carries a longsword and has two daggers tucked behind his back. He sports a crooked nose broken multiple times and a rough and haggard face, slightly unkempt)

Stag: I haven't much time today. Just get the old price that'll do. They know you well enough anyways than to try and trick you.

Wolf: All this time and I still wonder why you don't do any of this yourself.

Stag: It's too close for comfort. I might be recognized.

Wolf: And you don't think I'd recognize you?

Stag: (impatiently) Look I pay you well enough that you shouldn't complain. Or ask where any of this is coming from. (hands over one length of dragonbone) If you don't do it Wolf, I'll find someone who will.

Bronn: It's Bronn as you very well know and I've had enough of these stupid nicknames that you keep sprouting out. What's your real name anyways? And what if I just ran away with this precious bone and kept the gold for myself? You think you can catch me?

Stag: (with a bored expression) I give you ten percent every month. If you run away our contract would clearly be at an end and eleven months later I bet you'll live to regret it. Or rather you might be dead already.

Bronn: (shrugs) Just doing a bit of talkin' now no need to get so serious. (Stag watches Bronn as he turns and approaches a merchant in a stall in an intimidating manner. Stag watches closely as the merchant attempts to haggle with Bronn and is quickly silenced and after the exchange is made, Bronn is holding a small bag of gold)

Stag: Fearsome as you always are. (He empties the bag in his hand and counts ten gold dragons and hands one to Bronn who pockets it) Now if you excuse me, I'd love to stop and chat and maybe even exchange blades but I have to meet with Boar.

Bronn: (Looking back over his shoulder quizzical as Stag departs) But who's Boar? And where do you manage to find this stuff every week anyways?

Stag: (calling back) Don't tell anyone else how much this stuff is worth or our partnership is at an end, Wolf. Not even Fish can know.

(Stag is prowling the secret passageways of the Red Keep where it is pitch dark and difficult to see, his head kept bowed low in a black cloak. Every once in a while a small figure passes him but he does not stop. As if by memory his hand reaches for a switch at a corner and he flicks it and waits. Seconds later there is a shuddering sound and a small hole has appeared just above the ground against the wall which is just large enough for him to squeeze through. In the tunnel he crawls quickly and desperately towards the source of light. Three feet away he stops to listen but hears nothing and feels no heat so he continues on. There are steps and so he climbs them. He emerges in a hearth and looking around quickly, slips out into a deserted Red Keep kitchen. Boar is waiting for him seated at a table.)

Stag: (addressing him suddenly causing Boar to jump) Every time I take a passage like that I feel like I'm never going to make it. (Fingers his hair) A few more inches and it would be hopeless. I'm getting too old for this. Have you ever felt claustrophobia Boar?

Boar: (shuddering) You're very brave you know. I've always said…

Stag: I brought you some treats. (Holds up the basket and Boar accepts it while fishing his hand inside it) It might be covered in some soot though as always.

Boar: (unenthusiastically) Thanks.

Stag: You're afraid of something I can always tell.

Boar: (looking sincerely at Stag with wide, scared eyes) It's about Baelish.

Stag: Don't worry I'm not here to make you do anything up and above what you're already doing. Baelish won't hurt you if you give him no reason to do so.

Boar: But how do you know?

Stag: (impatiently) Look, I need someone I can trust down here in the kitchens. It's absolutely vital that you continue to keep your eyes, ears, nose open around here, or anything could happen. (Reaches in his pocket and takes out three filled tubes protected by cotton) Remember what I taught you. Two drops from this one is a detector for most venoms, this one is for the Tears of Lys especially-

Boar: Yes yes I know. You've told me a hundred times.

Stag: Look, don't worry about Baelish. What you're doing is very low-key work that no one could possibly detect.

Boar: But doesn't the King or the noble ladies have someone do it for them before they eat?

Stag: Maester Pycelle usually but I don't trust him and there are ways to get around the testing if you know how and have the substance. If you do it here before anyone's tampered with it first you'll catch the poison provided someone in the Kitchens is the one administering it.

Boar: I understand.

Stag: (pats him on the shoulder) I need to leave and get out of this ridiculous disguise.

(Steffon is sitting opposite to Ned again in his study)

Steffon: (speaking quickly and slightly out of breath) I have many matters to discuss with you today. I'll start from the simplest things and work my way up. Firstly although I applaud your investigative efforts you must understand that a Hand has many other administrative matters that he ought to keep an eye on. Financial matters, you really shouldn't allow Baelish to operate unchecked, Jon Arryn used to request financial transcripts from Baelish regularly.

Ned: (looks somewhat embarrassed) I actually am not used to reading such figures and sums on a regular basis. I have a steward-

Steffon: (clutching at his head) Never mind that then. Onto the next thing-

Ned: I was glad that you were able to sway Robert against ordering the assassination of Danaerys Targaryen this morning when I was unable.

Steffon: Yes, well everyone in the seven kingdoms hate the Dothraki few would be willing to fight for them, if the Targaryens bring the horde with them they would have little support. In fact it would taint the Targaryen name forever. All the Houses of Westeros would rally together and no one would ever think of a Targaryen restoration again supposing the Dothraki are defeated.

Ned: And I have been very busy of late. I must say I haven't been entirely honest with you. One of my motivations for coming to the capital, in addition to justice for my son is justice for Jon Arryn.

Steffon: (slightly alarmed) You realize how he died then?

Ned: Before our departure from Winterfell my wife received a raven from Lysa Arryn, her sister. (Steffon frowns) She says Jon was murdered by the Lannisters.

Steffon: And you've been investigating such claims in addition to trying to find out who attempted to kill your son? (Ned nods looking worn and weary. Steffon sighs deeply.) An added burden then. But I will gladly help you in this task as well if I am able. I had felt suspicious about his death but I have no leads. It's possible though that Maester Pycelle is covering his true cause of death which would pretty much implicate the Lannisters.

Ned: They are our chief suspects. Jon Arryn's squire was inexplicably knighted after his death and gifted with money and armour.

Steffon: The one who died in that joust against the mountain? (Ned nods) I wasn't there but I heard. So I suppose you think that the Lannisters must have paid him for his service. A hasty conclusion my Lord.

Ned: You don't think so? The Lannisters are known for their wealth-

Steffon: A great deal of people can afford a suit of armour and knighthood actually. This doesn't prove anything. It might even be a coincidence. (Ned looks doubtful) But did Lysa actually state any proof of her claims? Provide any evidence at all?

Ned: My wife read the raven but not that I know of.

Steffon: So she has no actual proof or she is unwilling to say? You must remember though that Lysa Arryn is not exactly a sound woman. Her distaste for the Lannisters even before this was quite well known.

Ned: My wife seems to be certain that her sister is telling the truth, she claims the stakes are too high for her to lie about this.

Steffon: Not if she's currently residing in the Eyrie. She has little to fear there. And I won't lie to you. Jon was quite indifferent to his wife, and while Lysa made a great show otherwise, I was under the impression that she had no love for her husband.

Ned: (gravely) That does not mean she would not care if Jon was murdered.

Steffon: I know. But who's been leading you in this investigation so far? How did you come to be aware of Jon Arryn's squire?

Ned: Baelish passed me the hint.

Steffon: Baelish! Him again. He's promised to help you in both investigations then?

Ned: He has but the cryptic manner in which he drops me clues suggests to me that he knows more than he's letting on.

Steffon: You may be right actually. Here's another consideration. Petyr was close to both Tully girls at Riverrun. Catelyn and Lysa. (Ned pauses leaning back in his chair in deep thought) But we're getting distracted, all of this can wait another time.

Ned: I still think the Lannisters are involved in some way or another.

Steffon: You may be right. But in all of these things, or merely in some of them but not others? Remember keep the cases distinct in your mind, their possible guilt in one affair doesn't necessarily imply their guilt in the other. We're dealing with two separate issues. Who tried to murder your son and why? Was Jon Arryn killed, who killed him and why?

Ned: You brought up before that Baelish may be framing the Lannisters. Do you think he's trying to frame them again?

Steffon: It is possible. But again we have more work to do to solve this mystery. Meanwhile has Stannis still not sent a reply? (Ned shakes his head still thinking) I will write to my uncle personally then.

Ned: I remember now. I almost forgot to tell you, I got this book from Maester Pycelle. (takes out the bulging tome and lays it out on the desk)

Steffon: (eyeing it) If Pycelle is involved with Jon's death he could be lying. As it so happens I know why Jon Arryn requested the book and I do not think it was to do with his death.

Ned: Why did he want to read up on the noble lineages of Westeros?

Steffon: Jon was thinking about possible betrothals for his son Robin Arryn. He discussed it with me as well. He was actually thinking of betrothing his son to my cousin Shireen and he wanted the book as a reference to past matches.

Ned: Ah that explains it then. Jon was acting rather oddly before his death it seems. Reading up on the Baratheon lineage, he visited a few brothels and your possible half brother as well.

Steffon: (calm and composed) My half brother?

Ned: One of Robert's bastards I found working as a smith's apprentice on the Street of Steel.

Steffon: Yes from what I heard my father had plenty of bastards. (pauses) But why did Jon Arryn visit him? Was it to make sure he was being looked after?

Ned: (shakes his head in bemusement) Started asking about their mothers. (Steffon looks politely puzzled) I didn't know Jon was still keeping track of all the women Robert bedded.

Steffon: (cutting in) My lord the real reason I wanted to speak with you today is to ask you about your wife Lady Stark. My sources tell me she somehow kidnapped Tyrion Lannister as he was journeying back to the capital from the wall.

Ned: (looking shocked) I assure you I knew nothing of this nor did I command it. We were going to let him come to King's Landing before arresting him. My wife was in the capital earlier to discuss matters with me but she should be returning to Winterfell now.

Steffon: It looks like then that your wife encountered Tyrion on the road and had him arrested. (Puts his face in his hands) Do you have any idea where he is now? (growing hysterical) Why didn't you tell your wife of our plans with Tyrion?

Ned: Truthfully I did not expect her to encounter him. And I wanted her to return to Winterfell to be with my children as soon as possible. I did not want her to linger in the capital, even for the trial.

Steffon: (looking serious again) So you have no idea where your wife has taken Tyrion?

Ned: (thinking) Could be Riverrun.

Steffon: (firmly) I need you to send out all the ravens in the capital to every corner of Westeros. (Ned stares at him) I need you to issue a royal command as the Hand of the King ordering the release of Tyrion Lannister who is to be brought instead to King's Landing for trial.

Ned: Why can't we try him in Riverrun instead if he is being held there?

Steffon: (exasperated) How do you think the Lannisters, Tywin Lannister would react to such a trial in such a place? Your wife's homeland. For the Lannisters to accept that a trial is to take place it has to happen at the command of a King, in the capital. Or else they will not accept it. Nor will they believe that fair justice will be done. The trial must be held in the open in King's Landing with yourself, Tywin, and my father as the three judges.

Ned: (outraged) How could you have Tywin as a judge? He's Tyrion's father and a Lannister besides.

Steffon: (explaining) But Tywin holds no love for Tyrion in the first place. And it is no more unfair than having you as a judge, since it was your son that was almost killed. (Ned is not convinced) Look I want the trial to be an accurate assessment of innocence or guilt and my way is the best way you must admit.

Ned: (finally nods in acceptance) Very well. We shall all judge Tyrion in the capital.

Steffon: I'm not done yet. I need you to send two more letters. One to Tywin Lannister clearing up the whole misunderstanding with him and the plans for Tyrion's trial in the capital. You must do this post-haste or I suspect my grandfather will call his banners and ravage the Riverlands. Once that is done there'll be no going back as the Tullys will want revenge and you Starks will be compelled to side with them. We need to act fast to prevent a major war between the great houses. The consequences otherwise will he horrific and tragic, a war caused out of misunderstanding, that has nothing to do with the original claim, Tyrion's supposed wrongdoing.

Steffon: (speaking rapidly) Next you will write three identical letters and send them to Winterfell, Riverrun, and the Eyrie the three most likely places where Tyrion is being taken to, specifically addressed to your wife explaining our intentions and the plan to free Tyrion and hold a fair trial in King's Landing in front of my father.

Ned: If we are lucky then, we may avoid an unnecessary war.

Steffon: Pray to all the gods that we are. Make sure that it's a royal command, meaning that failure to comply would equate to high treason in the name of King Robert. Get the letters finished and delivered as quickly as possible. (turns to the door) I must leave you now.

Ned: (hurriedly scrambling for parchment and quill and rings the bell on the desk for his scribe) Where to exactly?

Steffon: I need to talk personally to the Lannisters of King's Landing to make sure that none of this spills over.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

(It is late in the afternoon as Jaime is standing guard outside Robert's quarters while muffled screams of delight and laughter are filtering out into the corridor. Jaime's face is stoic but he grimaces every once in a while and his eyes darkens as he fidgets with his hands, his fingers often tracing the hilt of his longsword strapped to his belt while he whispers threats every so often under his breath. He turns to see Steffon approaching him climbing the round stone staircase of the Tower of the King and his eyes narrow with dislike although he tries to hide it)

Steffon: (evenly) Good afternoon uncle. I was wondering if I might have a word.

Jaime: (turning to him reluctantly then with a sarcastic tone) And what might you be doing around here at this hour? Come to hear your father, the King at his daily labours? Doing the rounds of some tavern girls he picked up on our journey back from Winterfell, installed them in the Red Keep. How many do you think are with him now? Maybe you'd like a go at one of them when your dear father's finished.

Steffon: (taking a breath) That's really not why I came and I really couldn't care.

Jaime: (cutting him off) But it really does matter you see. It's my sister that he likes insulting, all the time, especially when I'm on guard duty.

Steffon: And it's my mother. But believe me when I say that my mother doesn't care enough to be insulted, so long as it's not in public, and I hardly think this qualifies as a public venue.

Jaime: (chuckling falsely then stretches) Yes you're right. It doesn't matter to her, or me either what King Robert gets up to.

Steffon: I hear Tyrion's been arrested travelling back to King's Landing.

Jaime: (looks back at him somewhat surprised) Has he now?

Steffon: No need to pretend uncle. I know if you hadn't previously heard you'd be flying off in a great rage at the news. But the truth is we both want Tyrion back safely so I've come to talk to you about it.

Jaime: (mockingly but with a hint of concern) And did you happen to hear which party is responsible for his abduction? Maybe I would be right to say that you're speaking in a very hypocritical manner.

Steffon: (expressionless) The Starks are responsible but Ned Stark didn't order it. It was his wife who inadvertently arrested him. I also know that you are planning a revenge attack. I must advise you to hear me out before you proceed.

Jaime: Well by all means go ahead and enlighten us with your wisdom.

Steffon: There is a clear reason why this abduction happened. Tyrion has been accused of a crime that is linked with Bran's fall from the tower that I warned you about. There was a subsequent assassination attempt on the boy soon after we left that the Starks took to being an additional attempt to silence him. Then someone tipped off Lord Stark that the dagger they found with the assassin belonged to Tyrion. That's why Lord Stark's wife Catelyn arrested him. (Pauses) Well, can't exactly blame a mother for wanting revenge for her children.

Jaime: (taking this all in) And so they just take it on themselves to kidnap Tyrion because they think he's guilty? (shakes his head pretending to be amused but with a trace of worry) Those idiots. They'll pay for what they did, I'll make sure of that. (rounding on Steffon) And what's your role in this? What are you going to do about it? I wouldn't expect you to do anything to protect your family-

Steffon: On the contrary I've already spoken with Lord Stark and cleared up the misunderstanding with him. He's apologized for his wife's actions, to me at least, and is writing a letter to your Lord Father explaining the situation. (Jaime snorts derisively)

Jaime: If you think my father is just going to take this insult on a stride, you don't know him very well.

Steffon: Lord Stark has also released all the ravens in King's Landing, sending out a royal command that Tyrion is to be released without delay and returned to King's Landing for trial.

Jaime: (frowning) Trial? What trial?

Steffon: We're going to have a formal trial. I've already discussed it with father. (pointing inside the door where moans and slaps can still be heard) He's agreed to preside over it.

Jaime: (looking incredulously at the door) Him? Preside over anything?

Steffon: (continuing) Alongside Lord Stark and your Lord Father. He's been invited to the capital as one of the three charges. Together they will attempt to get to the truth of the matter. They will be fair and Tyrion will be judged in front of everyone.

Jaime: You do realize what this means don't you? This is the Starks attempting a power play by fawning over Robert, our King who's always had a soft spot for them.

Steffon: Maybe so. But he is the King and his judgement can't be questioned. And by doing this out in the open I'm minimizing the danger of escalation, misunderstanding, secrecy, back-dealing between the parties. Everyone will have their turn to weigh up their influence and concerns.

Jaime: (fuming) If my brother is found guilty I'll fight for his release. And I always win.

Steffon: (calmly) I don't expect anything less. I also do not believe that Tyrion is guilty but we need to find a way to satisfy the Starks and get to the truth. Or else they'll attempt to take justice into their own hands and I'm afraid the chances of Tyrion making it out alive in the event of war are slim. But you need to understand first of all, that Lord Stark did not order the abduction. Therefore attacking him would accomplish nothing and possibly endanger Tyrion's life.

Jaime: I think he's fed you a load of lies.

Steffon: (patiently) I saw him write the letters and the ravens delivering them. If he had no intention of releasing Tyrion, why would he indulge me so? As it is, Tyrion is probably going to make it back safely. Anyone who intervenes risks the supposed wrath of the King. If you attack Lord Stark you'll only complicate matters. You have to ask yourself which is more important to you, Tyrion's safety, or your pride, anger and thirst for revenge?

Jaime: (angrily) Say that one more time you little wretch and I'll skewer you to the end of my sword.

Steffon: (turning back to the door again) I don't even think he knows I'm here. Anyways I've said my peace. The decision is up to you. (turns to go but speaks with his back to Jaime) But remember rash actions often multiply and breed, if I were you I would be praying that no one does anything rash and unthinkable to Tyrion.

Jaime: (calmer again) How did you know I was here anyways?

Steffon: (turns back at the foot of the staircase to him) Ser Barristan said you were on guard duty at this hour.

Jaime: Of course, (bitterly with an ugly emphasis) Ser Barristan again.

Steffon: (staring at Jaime) I care about what happens to Tyrion just as much as you do… He's easily my favourite Lannister uncle, no offence to you. (turns to leave)

Jaime: (cheerfully) None taken.

(Steffon has gone to meet with Ned again to discuss the planned upcoming trial and how they plan to verify Baelish's accusations)

Steffon: I've actually taken the liberty of inviting him into your office today. To discuss the business of the trial. I hope you're not offended.

Ned: (reluctantly) No, of course not. We'll speak to him together, it's a first. And you plan on telling him what his role in the trial will be?

Steffon: (thinking) I will ask that he testify. He'll have his excuses no doubt but if we do it right we can test the worth of his words in front of witnesses, the judges, and most importantly the accused. If he adamantly refuses, also we'll hear his reasons why.

(There is a small knock on the door and Steffon glances at Ned who nods. Steffon rises from his seat and opens the door to let in Baelish who is smiling as if to himself, courteously bows before Steffon who nods in reply, Baelish walks over to Ned's desk and bows again and takes the proffered seat. Steffon remains standing.)

Baelish: (with perfect, practiced courtesy) My Lord Hand, My Prince what can I do for you both today, that you've so graciously summoned me to the Tower of the Hand. I hope I'm not intruding on anything important going on between the likes of you two.

Steffon: (turning to survey him edging closer to the seated Ned Stark) Not at all Lord Baelish, Lord Stark and I both wanted to have this meeting to discuss the upcoming trial of Tyrion Lannister.

Baelish: (feigning surprise convincingly) Oh? Has he returned to the capital yet? Something I've missed?

Steffon: Not yet Lord Baelish. But we've begun making plans as when he does arrive. As we've discussed in the Small Council there will be a trial with Lord Stark, Lord Tywin and my father as judges. The impetus for the trial of course, has been your vital bit of evidence concerning Tyrion's dagger and your knowledge of its ownership. So we just need a confirmation from you that you will indeed testify to the best of your knowledge during Tyrion's trial.

Baelish: (a slight sigh and in a dry tone) So it is that. (smoothly not looking at Steffon) I said I would help you Lord Stark. But I meant discretely, behind the shadows. (Shakes his head) The Lannisters can't know I told you any of this or my position will be in peril.

Steffon: (insistently) Lord Stark is the Hand of the King and he has my father's backing. I think he'll be able to make it so that you retain your post.

Baelish: The reason for my being summoned was for you to insist upon my involvement in this so-called open trial, but I am telling you, it is solely not in my interests to declare my allegiance so openly in court.

Ned: (sternly) Lord Baelish might I remind you of your duty to uphold the King's justice. By refusing to testify you will be obstructing the process of trial, you will be obstructing the King's justice.

Baelish: It would be my word against Tyrion's, a Lannister, which certainly wouldn't be enough to convict him by any means. So… I do not really see the purpose of such a trial, what would it achieve? Only to let Tyrion slip through our fingers due to insufficient evidence and we may never get the chance again as he and the Lannisters will be wary of us.

Steffon: (abruptly) Lord Baelish we are still in the process of determining whether Tyrion is indeed guilty, rather than presuming his guilt. A lot would depend upon your willingness to testify, in deciding the matter for ourselves.

Baelish: (spreading his arms open wide) I have nothing to hide from either of you. I stand by what I say and remember, that you Lord Stark have undoubtedly told Prince Steffon here.

Steffon: (addressing him coldly) I am half Lannister. (Baelish inadvertently smirks) Know this Lord Baelish, the trial proceeds whether or not you agree to cooperate. If you do not both Lord Stark and I will testify before the judges of what you said if you do not step forward. In which case you will still be forced to respond to our accusations.

Ned: (gravely) This trial will not be an end. If more evidence should emerge in the future we could always reopen the proceedings.

Steffon: We have not yet told anyone where the evidence for this trial comes from. But if you denied during trial what you have told us here today, you will still be suspected by the Lannisters hereafter, especially since I am my mother's son and I have no reason to conspire against them, the Lannisters will either see you as siding against them if they are guilty, or you trying to frame them if they are indeed innocent. (Baelish bows his head thinking)

Baelish: I almost wish I had withheld such information from you Lord Stark, if I knew what it entailed for me, what you would force me to do. (Ned looks at Steffon questioningly) I will agree to the testimony, under protest I must admit, because I do not see it as a wise course of action. It accomplishes nothing, serves no purpose other than to certify what I have said, which tells me plainly enough that you do not trust me. Regretfully, I am at a loss to understand why, I have never lied to you Lord Stark and have helped you in your many investigations to date.

Steffon: (cutting him off) So you will testify in front of my father?

Baelish: (surveying him intensely) Yes, my prince. I will indeed.

(In the gilded throne room, Tyrion is brought forward escorted by a party of Vale knights with shields embroidered with the sigil of House Arryn. Behind him Catelyn Stark marches eyeing the onlookers around apprehensively, she exchanges meaningful glances with Ned who is seated on the Iron Throne with Steffon, Baelish, Varys, Pycelle, and Renly flanking him)

Ned: (clearing his throat) Lord Tyrion you are hereby charged with the breaking of the King's Law, namely the attempted murder of Brandon Stark in Winterfell two months previously. A trial will be held a week from today to ascertain your guilt or innocence. Until then, you shall be held in captivity in wait to answer for your crimes.

Tyrion: (sarcastically applauds) Very good… speech. I'm sure we will have a delightful time together in a week, a sort of get-together party if you like. (Before he can proceed, two guards escort him away and he whistles to the tune of the Rains of Castamere)

Steffon: (whispering into Ned's ear) I think we should talk to him prior to his trial.

Ned: (looking somewhat shocked) As a judge, I cannot speak with the accused prior to the trial.

Steffon: Then I will talk to him alone. Both to inform him about the trial and hear what he has to say about himself. And I will report everything back to you.

(In the dungeons, it is damp and apart from several torches lining the wall and casting shadows down onto the floor, it is dark and foreboding. Tyrion is sat on a stone step attempting to massage his feet in vain with his hands chained together. Suddenly the dungeon door creaks open and Steffon enters and bids the guards to wait outside)

Tyrion: (turning to address Steffon trying to look bored) So, what's all this about? I've been hearing all sorts of things. How I'm accused to possess a dagger that was used during an attempt on the boy's life and so everyone seems to think that I've set an assassin on him and yet nobody has shown me the dagger and I don't own very many daggers and as far as I know my dagger was very much present until it was taken away from me when I was arrested and stripped.

Steffon: (looking somewhat apologetic) I am very sorry for your predicament uncle, but I did try to make the best of things.

Tyrion: (pleadingly) Tell me you're the last person I've got who still has some sense in him? Do you think that I tried to murder Brandon Stark?

Steffon: (looks around nervously before replying in a low voice) I am actually certain that you did not. I am certain that you are being framed. But nobody else can say the same. And I needed to placate the Starks to prevent them from doing anything rash which is why this trial has been organized. But I have a plan all the same which will undoubtedly clear your name and possibly bring down those that have falsely accused you.

Tyrion: Well as a last resort I always have my brother Jaime.

Steffon: It will not come to that. I am sure of it. Do you trust me?

Tyrion: (hesitantly nods) Very well. I do. My life is in your hands then?

Steffon: There are many things I cannot tell you right now or else my plan will not work. You will learn who has accused you during the trial. In the meantime… (Steffon unveils a large shoulder bag containing all manner of dried meats, sweets, a quill, a bottle of ink, some parchment, candles, fruits, bread, cheese, and a flask of water)

Tyrion: No wine?

Steffon: I need you to be focused. But I brought you a book and a cyvasse set as well. (sets it all before Tyrion) I'll see you in a a few days time when your father arrives in the capital.

Tyrion: (questioningly) So my father is one of the judges?

Steffon: Along with Lord Stark and my father. You understand, I needed him present or else there'd be no way we could have settled this peacefully.

Tyrion: (pops a roll of dried meat into his mouth and chews) You put some thought into this. Well done.

Steffon: (amusedly) Well done?

Tyrion: (not looking at him) Well done for averting war. (seriously) Thank the gods we have people like you looking after things.


	9. Chapter 9

(The throne room is tense with anticipation with low whispers breaking out among the attendants and courtiers to the side. Robert is sat on his throne, his shoulders hunched forwards looking faintly uncomfortable, sitting on the edge of the seat as he attempts to clumsily manoeuvre into a more favourable position. Ned Stark is standing to Robert's right and behind him Steffon is present scrutinizing the proceedings warily. To Robert's left is Cersei is poised, seated comfortably with a practiced, expectant air, she smiles faintly hiding that nervous side of hers. The bronze doors creak open once more, then are flung aside as a horn sounds. Tywin marches purposefully in the room followed by a dozen Lannister red cloaks that fall back as he approaches the King who is nonchalantly meeting his steely gaze. Then Tywin bows all of a sudden.)

Tywin: (gravely) Your grace.

Robert: (addressing him with reluctance but with an attempt for brashness) Well you know why we're all here. The matter with your son. Accusations have been flying from both sides and I can't rule the Seven Kingdoms unless this piece of matter is resolved (Fingers impatiently to his right and Ned Stark hands him a scroll) Your son Tyrion has been accused of conspiracy and attempted murder (Tywin's face is expressionless) (Robert continues to read) and there have been several points of evidence prepared by the Starks, us three will be the judges.

Tywin: (speaking in a level tone) Your grace, when I received a hasty summon to King's Landing it was to answer for the supposed crimes that were my son's doing, as if the trial had already been concluded. (Steffon shoots Ned an exasperated look) I am glad your grace has not listened to ill counsel and acted too hastily in this affair.

Robert: (fuming but checks his temper) Would you like to see Tyrion then?

Tywin: (carelessly) Where is he at the moment?

Robert: In the dungeons, awaiting trial. (Waves away his councillors and totters up from the throne unsteadily) If that's all, we'll see you here in three days time for the trial which will begin at noon. (Exits noisily out of one of the side doors coughing before taking another swig from a concealed flask. The court begins to dissipate still muttering. Steffon comes down the steps to approach Tywin who is exchanging hard stares with Ned Stark)

Steffon: (glancing around, then in greeting tilting his head slightly) Grandfather, may I have a word?

Tywin: (turns to survey him surprised) Prince Steffon. I haven't seen you for some time since your last visit to Casterly Rock.

Steffon: Three years actually. I am glad you were able to make it here on such a short notice. I wanted to speak personally with you about the trial proceedings and arrangements. There will be four witnesses testifying against Tyrion, myself included.

Tywin: (sharply) You are testifying against Tyrion?

Steffon: (firmly) I will speak what I saw and what I think. Rest assured, I do not think Tyrion to be guilty and neither do I personally have any incriminating evidence that could incriminate Tyrion. But the Starks are quite aggrieved by the incident that befell their second-born son and as I was the first to find him after the initial accident, I was also the first to suspect foul play.

Tywin: Do you suspect anyone who was involved?

Steffon: (muses) No. All evidence against Tyrion is circumstantial it seems. Lord Stark believes so as well, in fact it was I who advised him on the course of action after his wife abducted Tyrion. You understand, he did not order the kidnapping, he was also planning on a trial to be held in King's Landing. But as he obviously does not share his work with his wife, I'm afraid she acted emotionally as women are often wont of doing.

Tywin: Is that all that has happened then? (Steffon nods)

Steffon: Speak with Tyrion. I have already reassured him that his trial will be a fair one and that there is no clear evidence against him whatsoever. And that it would be Robert presiding over the trial as the main judge, not Ned Stark.

Tywin: (sternly) Lord Stark is the Hand of the King and he must personally apologize for the actions of his house even if they were not his doing. But the thing I'm questioning is why he would call for a trial if he was not convinced of Tyrion's guilt and had no evidence to implicate him.

Steffon: (quickly) That is why the trial is more of a formality at the moment. The trial is merely their opportunity to publicly air their grievances and bring them before my father. They intend to carry on investigating, this is also meant for them to see which pieces of presumed evidence are correct, and which are flawed and easily refuted. In this particular trial they may reopen the case later if more evidence is found.

Tywin: (spotting Cersei now approaching them and with a lightened tone smiling slightly) Your mother is approaching. (Steffon turns as well)

Cersei: (charming with a dimple addressing the two, pausing) My son. Will you allow your grandfather and I a few moments to discuss matters together?

Steffon: (bows again slightly) I will leave you two to catch up.

(There is a great cacophony of sounds erupting all at once as Tyrion is once again escorted into the box of the accused as two hundred spectators survey the scene. Robert is again seated on the throne looking sober while to his right and left Ned Stark and Tywin look grim-faced and solemn. Steffon is waiting in the witness box with the others that include Catelyn, Baelish, Yoren among others. Myrcella is seated in the front row with Cersei looking worried. Tyrion reaches the box of the accused and leans with his elbows down on the counter looking weary.)

Robert: (bellows) Quiet! Tyrion Lannister you are hereby accused today of conspiracy and the attempted murder of Lord Brandon Stark. How do you plead?

Tyrion: (shooting a quick glance towards Steffon who gives him an encouraging nod) Not guilty, your grace. I have no knowledge of these activities.

Robert: (shouting again) In the order of witnesses, Prince Steffon will be the first. (gestures towards his son)

Steffon: (stepping up to the witness box calmly as all eyes turn towards him)

Robert: (booming, sitting back) Prince Steffon do you swear by all the gods that your testimony be true and honest according to the best of your knowledge?

Steffon: I do so swear.

Robert: (gestures a hand towards Ned who begins)

Ned: On the second day of the King's visit to Winterfell, the day that my son Brandon Stark was found lying at the foot of the tower, critically injured, what were you doing?

Steffon: (in an even voice) As you recall my Lord, the King's party had gone out to hunt just past noon, with you accompanying him. At that time I had sustained a light sparring injury so I decided not to accompany my father in his hunt. Instead I spent the afternoon reading some tomes that I had borrowed from the Winterfell library.

Ned: And how did you come to find my son? The tower from which he fell was in one of the more deserted parts of Winterfell. Why did you happen to go there?

Steffon: In the late afternoon after several hours of reading I had decided to explore sections of the castle that I hitherto had not seen. It was by chance that I stumbled upon your son first.

Ned: Prince Steffon. In the conversations we have had previously you mentioned that you were certain that Bran's fall had not been an accident but rather intentional. Could you explain how you came to that conclusion?

Steffon: (explaining deliberately) It was the distance that I found him from the tower that raised the first questions in my mind. Now normally when a person loses his footing whilst climbing he would be expected to plummet straight into the ground. Yet for some reason Bran was found at least five away from the base of the tower which was sunk slightly into the ground so he could not have rolled or moved much on impact. After I had alerted some people to find the maester I attempted to climb the tower myself, and the fact that the tower was an easy climb decreased the likelihood that it was an accident in my mind.

Ned: Having climbed the tower could you describe it to us?

Steffon: Certainly. The tower is over one hundred feet high measuring roughly forty feet around the circumference. It had very sturdy foot-holes, ledges throughout, consistently. The surface was rough, not slippery. Any able-bodied man or boy could climb it with ease, assuming you're not afraid of heights of course.

Ned: What else did you notice about the tower?

Steffon: I noticed that the tower only had one opening which was at the top level, facing the direction where I found Brandon. From the top I measured the trajectory and it was such that he could only have been pushed or personally jumped from that height.

Ned: And so what would you say were your overall conclusions about what happened?

Steffon: (bluntly) I think he was deliberately pushed from the top of the tower. I feel that is the logical conclusion and the one most likely to be correct.

Ned: (gravely) And the following day after the fall, you warned my wife Catelyn Stark, did you not?

Steffon: I did. I was not completely certain but I felt that my suspicions warranted preemptive measures be taken to protect the boy. And considering the events that have happened since it appears my fears were not unfounded. Given that I believe there was an intent to harm and kill Brandon Stark on that day, so therefore it is also my belief that the ones responsible for Brandon Stark's fall were also involved in the attempted assassination a couple of weeks later.

Ned: Thank you for your testimony Prince Steffon. We may have to hear from you again before this is over. (Steffon bows to Robert and departs the witness stand. The crowd begins to murmur again faintly)

Robert: (abruptly) Do you Lord Tywin have anything in response to say of Prince Steffon's testimony? (Tywin considers for a moment but does not reply) Moving on then. (gestures again to Ned Stark)

Ned: For my second witness I would like to call upon my wife Catelyn Stark.

(Catelyn approaches the stand, looking nervous but takes a determined deep breath of air to muster the will to speak. It is clear that Steffon's testimony has affected her)

Ned: My lady wife.

Catelyn: (in reply) My lord husband.

Ned: In the aftermath of the event, I heard you visited the tower as well.

Catelyn: I did. (reaches inside her cloak for a tightly drawn knitting bag) (with a forceful emphasis) And I found this. (she withdraws her hand from inside the bag and draws out a single long strand of golden hair and looks directly at Cersei who stares defiantly back at her. By the side, Steffon looks worried)

Robert: Lady Stark, do you swear by all the gods that this testimony of yours to be true?

Catelyn: I swear it. By all the gods.

Robert: (gestures with his hand and a servant immediately approaches Catelyn, taking from her that strand of hair which he offers to the King on one knee. Robert takes it and examines it to his eye, thinking)

Tywin: Lady Stark, are there any golden-haired maids or servant girls in Winterfell perhaps? (takes the hair that Robert passes to him and examines it closely) It is very old hair, it seems to me. I cannot tell if it fell out of the owner's scalp one month ago, or perhaps six months ago.

Catelyn: The tower in question is a deserted tower, half-ruined, certainly nobody regularly visits it. And we have very few golden-haired servant girls in the North Lord Tywin.

Tywin: This does not conclusively prove anything. As you have admitted, you do have golden-haired servant girls or maids in Winterfell.

Robert: (looking at him) No? Well, it's supporting evidence at least. Strong supporting evidence I must say. (He catches a glimpse of Cersei in the audience and frowns, rubbing his chin) Is there anything else Lady Stark?

Tyrion: I must interrupt. As everyone may evidently note, I wear my hair short.

Catelyn: (rounding on him venomously) I'm not saying it was necessarily you in that tower. Just perhaps someone from your house. (There is an outbreak of discord among the audience at this and Robert stands bellowing furiously)

Robert: SILENCE!

Tywin: (complacently) And do you Lady Stark have any evidence to back up that extraordinary assertion?

Catelyn: (defiantly staring back at him) I do actually. Just before the King's visit to Winterfell, I received a raven. From my sister. (Steffon surreptitiously holds his head in his hands) She claims that Jon Arryn did not die from natural causes. (Robert looks stricken) She claims that he was murdered. (again there is uproar)

Tywin: (fighting to make himself heard) And why is she not here herself personally to testify for such an equally extraordinary assertion?

Catelyn: (furiously) She fears for her life. As do I. As does my Lord husband or anyone who dares to oppose you.

Tywin: (turning to Robert) Your grace, might I remind you this trial is on the subject of Tyrion's supposed wrongdoing. (voice rising) I am not here to answer baseless claims and insults to my house.

Robert: (calmer) Lady Stark did your sister provide any details as to how she came to know of this or any proof to her allegations?

Catelyn: (reluctantly) No your grace she did not say exactly. (Tywin snorts contemptuously)

Tywin: Well now that we've cleared that up, is there anything else Lady Stark? Where were we at? Yes, how does your claim of evidence, the hair relate to Tyrion in particular?

Catelyn: My claim is that someone from your family attempted to push my son off that tower in an attempt to silence him. (Looks again at Cersei) And that Tyrion here was meant to finish him off… what was left of him. (breaks down sobbing but recovers quickly her composure and hiccups)

Tywin: (waits impatiently until she recovers) Again do you have any proof for such claims?

Catelyn: (speaking in a renewed measured tone) Two weeks after the King and my husband left Winterfell there was an attack on my son in the night while I was tending to him. Then I heard a scuffle outside. The two guards that I had posted outside the door were killed. We later found them stabbed to death in the throat and the eye. At the same time, a fire apparently broke out in another part of Winterfell which was meant as a distraction to buy the assassin time. The assassin entered my son's chamber and we… struggled. (dully) Bran's direwolf then killed the assassin by ripping out his throat.

Catelyn: (unsheathes) This. We found this with him.

Ned: (standing) At this time, I would like to call upon the next witness. Lord Petyr Baelish.


End file.
